Not your Average Teen Love story
by TrulyRogue
Summary: Rogue joins the X-men only to realize Gambit is a key figure from her past. Can she learn to trust the Cajun and let him help to prove her innocence when accusations of murder arise? Rated M for language/adult content in later chaps. Full summary inside.
1. Glimpse of the Past

**Summary:**

Rogue is constantly dwelling on the day she put Cody Robbins, the first boy she ever kissed, in a coma. Hoping that the Charles Xavier can help her to find herself, she leaves the Brotherhood Boarding House and joins the X-men. She can't seem to figure out why heartthrob Remy LeBeau has been so familiar – until he brings back a key element of her past. When secrets are spilled Rogue doesn't know who she can trust; but she'll have to try, because Gambit may be the only one who can help her to prove she's not guilty when a new mutant named De Schaduw rolls into town – accusing the X-woman of murder. Can she learn to trust the Cajun? Or will his womanizing reputation be too much for the Southern belle to handle?

**Rating:**

This story is rated M for language and adult content in later chapters.

**Pairings:**

Rogue/Remy

Lance/Kitty

* * *

**Not Your Average Teen Love Story**

**CHAPTER 1: Gimpse of the Past**

It's funny when you think about how fast the years go by; one minute you're hopping through puddles on the sidewalk, wishing you could be old enough to cross the street without holding your mom's hand. Then the next, you'd give anything just to go back to that. They say your teenage years are some of the best you'll ever have throughout your life. Since I'm only seventeen, I'm not certain about that or not. But I can tell you that I wouldn't regard the past few years of my young adult life as "the best". They've never really been anything other than average, at best. Of course, my idea of average is more than less likely to be far distant from your definition. In fact, it seems that, ever since I became old enough to start enjoying myself, things have suddenly changed.

The clock is telling me that it's 11:46pm. I've wasted the past three and a half years of my life in this dump. Things were so much easier before.

* * *

THREE YEARS EARLIER

* * *

The young girl tucked her hands in her pockets as she trailed behind her foster mother and brother. It was just one of those spring days, soft rain accented with freshly awakening flowers. She walked along, splashing her foot in the occasional puddles. As the bells rang high above the church, the young girl breathed a sigh. There were plenty of more amusing ways to spent one's Saturday night. Her foster mother hurriedly paced along with her brother's hand in her own.

The town in particular was strongly associated with the Catholic faith. It was uncommon to see anybody not attending the Saturday evening or Sunday morning masses. Rogue was not fond of the Church social scene though, mostly because it was overwhelmed with her image of "fake". As they trotted up the steps and through the massive doors, the young Southerner let down her dampened hood with another sigh. Fake. People she regularly observed that didn't like each other, pretend to have no trouble with one another. Snotty soccer moms whom normally gossiped like high school girls, now complemented one another on their Sunday (In this case Saturday night?) clothes.

"Rogue why don't you bring this," Irene rummaged through her purse, "over to the donation—now where is it?"

"Here mom," Kurt took the purse from the blind woman, easily locating the envelope of cash she had stowed away.

Rogue obediently brought her foster mom's gift over to the table. Her stomach only twisted a little as she realized who smirked back at her from behind the table. Not that it's very cliché or anything, but yeah it is: Jamie Torrence, regarded as the most popular girl in ninth grade huffed as Rogue dropped the envelope in the box.

"Thanks Roguey," She snickered. Our southerner merely shot her a look and sauntered back into the chapel part of the church. It was going to be a long mass, but so long as she didn't have to talk to the most ultimate fake of them all—she'd survive.

Burying her head beneath the black fabricated pillow, Rogue suddenly felt something tickle the sole of her foot. She pulled the pillow off her face and sat up in irritation.

"Kurt!" He jumped back as she glared at him. Her brother waved tauntingly as she hissed and threw a pillow at him. *Bamf* It was a predictable miss.

"Come on Rogue… Irene says zat it's time for you to get ready for school!" Kurt who was a mutant since birth held obvious characteristics. Beyond obvious, if you want to be technical: Bright blue furry skin, yellow eyes, a pointy demon-like tail, and crazy looking ears! The demon tail that he recently used to tickle his sister's foot began to move slowly from side to side. How did he go out into public? Easy! Irene's best friend Raven knew a man who could make what they called an "image inducer". It created the illusion that Kurt looked just like any other "normal" person.

Rogue herself wondered if she was a mutant at times. She didn't have powers, and she was positive that without a doubt she'd always felt normal. But her mother constantly made her wear long sleeve shirts, gloves, and leggings. It was almost as if she didn't want her to show any skin. Of course it was awkward for the young fourteen year old, and she'd started to take the gloves off when her mother's car disappeared from the high school's sight.

"What tahme is i—"Rogue didn't finish her sentence when she realized he had bamfed out of the room. "Of course," she rolled her eyes and walked over to the large mirror. She brushed her hair out as she stretched - making a small glance at her phone. The red light on her answering machine blinked. 'How did I miss that?' She thought, musing over how her phone didn't wake her up; very unusual.

"Rogue, it's Amber. Listen, Ah know you're not going to be too happy about dis, but Ah can't make it t' the concert with ya." Rogue's mouth nearly hit the floor, "Ah'm sorry, but my mom found out about Ryan sneakin' in… and well long story short Ah'm just grounded. Call me back please…" Rogue growled in frustration.

"Now what am Ah gonna do tonight!" She buried her face in her hands. Irene would never let her go alone. And everybody else was busy since Cody Robbins was throwing a huge party.

"Rogue," her foster mom called from downstairs, "you're going to be late!"

"Ah'm comin Irene…"

She set the phone on speaker as she walked around in her room. "Ah juss can't believe ya got grounded Amber. Ah mean—"

"Ah said Ah was sorry Rogue… jeez what do ya want from me…?" Rogue walked around folding some laundry. Setting it back into her closet, Amber spoke back to her friend, "well ya'll could go ta the party at Cody's tonight."

"Yea raht.. me at a party.."

"Aww come on girl it might be more fun than ya thinkin." Rogue snorted as she walked to the mirror tucking some hair behind her ear. "Don't laugh at me… Ah can hear."

"Ok give meh one reason wah Ah should even consider goin ta a social event lahke Cody's party."

"Cody." A silence fell between the two as Rogue sighed. "Come on Rogue.. Ah know ya have a thing for him. Just go and see if he talks ta ya."

"Ah don't think Ah should."

"Go. Come on... have a good tahme… tell me all 'bout it." Rogue bit her lip a second as she walked to the machine.

"Ok... Ah'll go..." A squeal was heard from Amber. "BUT... don't ask meh ta go ta any other stupid parties if Ah hate this."

"Cross mah heart. *Click*


	2. Glimpse of the Past II

**CHAPTER 2: Gimpse of the Past II **

**(How it all began)**

She took in a breath as she walked to the door, giving it a small knock. Just her luck - Jamie answered.

"Uhh.. Rogue.. what a.. umm, surprise?"

"Yeah, Ah'm uhh, lookin for somebody," Rogue pushed past the girl trying to avoid eye contact. Jamie and Rogue never did get along. The party was somewhat ridiculous in the sense that Cody's parents were home. Next to the mass of dancing high school kids there was a beer pong table, crowded with football players and swooning teenage girls. Her heart began to thud when she realized Cody was one of the game participants. What was she even thinking? There was no way a guy like Cody, opposite on the social spectrum, was ever going to want to talk to a gothic chick. She suddenly felt as though she was getting cold feet.

"Do I know you?" She turned hearing somebody talking to her. A boy stared back as he cracked open a beer he had just taken from the cooler.

"Ah donno... Ah've seen ya around... you're on the football team raht?" He nodded.

"Yeah, Jeff," He put out his hand, surprising her.

"Rogue," She replied.

When she didn't take his hand he withdrew it with an awkward breath. "You uhhh, don't usually come out to parties without your friend…"

"…Amber", Rogue finished.

"Yeah", Jeff cleared his throat, "You're both in ninth grade right?" She nodded in reply, watching him reach into the cooler again. "I thought so, Cody pointed you out before. You're the girl in our French class right?"

"Oui", She flashed a smile, realizing that was far beyond cheesy. The football player just chuckled and handed her the freshly opened can he withdrew from the cooler. "Ah umm, Ah've only been at Caldecott High for a couple months."

"You'll get used to it…" He smiled refocusing his visual attention to something behind her. "Sorry, I've got to get back to the game. Maybe I'll catch you around sometime Rogue." Maybe the stuck up football players weren't so stuck up after all. A jolt of guilt ran through her. Apparently not everybody who hung out with Jamie Torrence was a complete ass. Wait! Did he say Cody pointed her out!

She watched him trail off into the crowd, feeling the corner of her mouth turn upward into a smile. Most of the night went smoothly; she even danced with Jeff once! Of course he wasn't Cody Robbins, but it was a start.

Towards the end of the night people were stumbling and laughing at the stupid things. Rogue didn't drink too much, but enough to know she had better cut herself off if she was going to walk home alone. It was getting pretty late into the party too when she'd noticed a giggling group of girls directing their stares in her direction. The Southerner wasn't a fan of attention, negative or positive. She squirmed uncomfortably, hoping she was only being paranoid.

"What a dirt...," was all she could make out. They had better not be talking about her. She sighed and decided to divert her own attention to something more worthy.

Cody Robbins was chatting away with a scruffy looking boy. He didn't seem familiar, and Rogue was almost confident he must go to a different high school.

"Did ya hear the news?" Rogue shook her head as she retreated from her trance of thought. She realized Jamie of all people, was trying to talk to her …again. She kept an innocent smile that gave Rogue the creeps.

"What news?" The goth girl arched an eye brow and crossed her arms.

"Well Ah heard that somebody…wants to ask y' to the Formal coming up." Jamie made a 'hmph' noise following her sentence. The Formal was one of the big dances at Caldecott High School.

Rogue shook her head, "Ah don't do formals Terrance." She began to walk away as the girl cut her off.

"—well!" Rogue narrowed her eyes. "Then Ah guess you're going to have to tell that to one of the football players aren't cha?"

"What's your angle?" The goth poked her in the chest.

"No angle!" Jamie sipped her frothy beer. "Ah just thought you'd like to know…since well, it's nice to see you coming around once in awhile Roguey." She paused, "Did ummm, ya find who you were lookin' for?"

"Hey," The newly discovered nice football player Jeff intervened.

"Hey." (Jamie) - simultaneously - "What?" (Rogue)

Jeff blinked for a moment trying to resurface his last thought. The two girls seemed a lot more on edge than he'd expected. They obviously had a strong distaste for one another.

"What can Ah do for ya Jeffrey?" Jamie batted her long eyes with a smile. With a heavy sigh, the goth beside her took a large gulp of the last beer she was having for the night.

"Actually," He started, "I wanted to talk to Rogue if you don't care." Her face fell serious as she heaved a breath and sulked the whole way back to her eagerly awaiting group of nearly drunk girlfriends.

"Me?" Rogue asked in surprise.

Jeff laughed, "Don't sound so surprised. So many girls at this party are so…" He beckoned his finger in the direction of the Terrance fan-club. "…you know?" He seemed amused by her astonished face. "Anyways, I had a question."

'Oh no' she screamed internally, 'he's going to ask me to the formal!' This was completely unexpected and weird. The absolute last thing Rogue ever expected was the end up with a date for—

"Would you think about going to the formal with my bud Cody?"

'WHAT! Did he just ask me that?'

"Uhmmm..."

"I know it's sort of stupid that he asked me to talk to you." He rambled on, "I told him I wasn't going to talk to somebody for him like some girl, but at the same time he knows you're not into guys like… uhh… well…"

"Normal guys", Jamie and her friends giggled. Rogue realized that the group had migrated closer in order to eavesdrop. Jeff shot the girl a look and returned his attention back to the stunned Southerner.

"Ah don't know." Was all she could say, and her eyes nervously scanned the room for her crush. Did he know? This was too much of a coincidence. Things like this didn't just happen for her. Guys like Cody, yeah in a sense "normal guys" like Cody Robbins, didn't like those individuals socially proclaimed "outcasts", like Rogue. Call it cliché, but sometimes cliques are cliques and people clash. There's a reason Hollywood emphasizes the spar between cool kids and the recluse.

"I'm sure he's just feeling bad for you anyways Roguey. Don't feel obligated."

If only looks could kill, Jamie wouldn't be such a rude pain in the ass anymore. "You're not jealous, are you Jamie?" Jeff teased, catching her off guard. "Cause we know how you feel about Cody since you guys broke up last year…"

"Me?" She laughed mockingly pointing at Rogue, "Jealous? Of that? No way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The goth pushed past Jeff with fists clenched at her sides.

"It means I don't waste ma time worrying about people like you."

"Lahke, ME?" Her Southern twang thickened in annoyance.

"Don't get in ma face Rogue." The two girls didn't realize how much attention they were conjuring up "You don't belong here. The only reason nobody calls ya out is because Amber's our friend. We feel bad for you." The goth growled to herself seeing how many people were talking beneath their breath and sparing glances in her direction. Jeff even looked like he was becoming amused in the little 'tiff'.

"That's not true." Cody said appearing swiftly and much to Rogue's surprise out of nowhere. She felt her face get hot with embarrassment. "Stop being a bitch Jamie," he snapped.

"Oh now Ah'm the bitch?" The girl took immediate offense screwing up her face. "Tell her it was a joke Cody. Tell 'er the truth!" Rogue's stomach knotted as the people surrounding grew more interested.

"A joke?" Rogue choked.

"It's not a joke!" He looked to Rogue. "It wasn't a joke. She's just jealous."

"What!" Jamie whipped the red cup full of beer at Rogue's chest, a tsunami of alcohol drenching her green mesh shirt and black cami. Before you could say Charles Xiavier, Rogue was pinning the girl to the ground; with her prey's pink sweatshirt collar in her left, she jerked back her right to take a mighty swing.

"Hey hey hey!" A tall scruffy boy wearing sunglasses ripped the goth from the shrieking and angry girl. "Break it up filles!" He gripped Rogue tight around the waist, making sure she didn't try to get free.

"Ah swear Ah'm gonna—"

"—just go home" Jamie snapped. "Nobody wants you here." He finally let go motioning for one of the other football players and Jeff to hold the goth back. "Freak." She taunted.

Rogue just threw her shoulders out of the boys' grasps, colliding with the Cajun on her way by. She hurried past the mass of teenagers, pushing her way to the door after grabbing up what she was sure was her coat.

Halfway down the street the goth sighed. Wait until Amber heard about this, she was never going to believe it. Ever. There was the sound of rushing footsteps behind her. Hands tucked snuggly in each pocket, Rogue glanced over her shoulder. 'Shit', her mind squeaked, 'why is he following me?'

"Hey." The sound of Cody's voice made her anxiety rise. "Wait. Wait, it's just me and my friend."

"Ah'm sorry Ah didn't—"

"No, it's not your fault. I'm sorry." He cleared his throat looking back at the boy who'd accompanied him. "Jamie…she uhh… she doesn't mean to be that way sometimes."

"Psh…" Rogue rolled her eyes. And shot the boy behind Cody a looked when she heard him snicker. It was the boy who had broken up the fight; the one with the Cajun accent. "Ah'm just gonna go home. Ah'm sure you still have things to take care of back at the party."

"We would really like to walk you home."

"We?" She asked.

"Well," Cody started, "I would like to walk you home. He," his head nodded towards his friend, "Just tags along …please?"

She smiled, pushing back a strand of hair from in front of her emerald eyes. "Alraht."

The walk was quiet for the most part, but after awhile Cody and Rogue began to chat more and more. The last thing she ever thought she'd be ending her night with, was a walk with Cody Robbins. He was different then the other guys she'd met at Caldecott High, which was what immediately caught her interest. Rogue never found herself looking for male attention, in any way. But Cody was different.

"Dat was a tres bien tackle Chere." The Cajun walked up to her other side for the first time throughout the journey home. The majority of the trip he'd been trailing behind the two teens.

She stifled a laugh with her hand, blushing lightly, "Uhh, thanks. Jamie and Ah have always had this suppressed hate for one another…" She paused, "No offense."

"None taken," Cody smiled down at her as she looked down at her feet. "Oh… this is Remy LeBeau... he's one of the friends Ah made on mah trip ta the New Orleans."

"Ah'm Rogue." He took her hand planting a kiss on it as he smiled.

"Belle name Chere."

"Hes visiting from New Orleans…"

"Are ya our age?" She asked as the Cajun shook his head.

"He's eighteen." She wasn't surprised at the answer. Cody was almost sixteen, about eighteen months older than her. And Remy, well he just looked older regardless. But he didn't really talk too much. The three continued onward for awhile, Rogue forgetting the horrible embarrassment she had endured that night. Her mind was elsewhere, and the butterflies in her tummy gave away its whereabouts. Remy stood against the gate at the end of the side walk as Cody followed her up the steps and onto the porch.

"Thanks fer walkin meh home."

"No prob... least Ah could do after..." he pointed at her still wet shirt. She took her hand enclosing it underneath her leather jacket. Wait…but it wasn't a leather jacket! Remembering how fast she fled the scene, the goth knew she had accidentally snatched up the brown trench coat.

"Ah didn't mean to cause a probl—"

"Don't worry 'bout it…" An awkward silence lingered between the two momentarily.

She laughed a second trying not to blush. Her heart skipped as he leaned in, kissing her swiftly before withdrawing. She bit her lip leaning upward as he smirked, cupping her chin in his hands. Her first real kiss! She savored it as she felt his soft lips press against her own. The kiss was sweet, but suddenly became unkind. A strange tingly feeling overcame the Southerner's mouth. Her eyes opened wide as she stumbled out of the kiss, backwards, and into Remy.

"What'd y' do t' him!" The Cajun grabbed her by the arm.

Cody lay unconscious on the ground. 'Is he dead!' Her thoughts screamed as she began to panic. What just happened! A rush of unfamiliar memories flooded her mind.; she couldn't understand the collage of images rushing through her brain! "AHH," She screamed grabbing at her temple.

"What did y' do. Tell me!" Remy shook her, finally gaining her attention as tears sprang from her eyes.

"Ah- Ah- Ah don't know!" She covered her mouth and sobbed in a fear. She wanted to run to the boy but knew her touch was suddenly lethal.

"Rogue my child," a lean figure with a toothy smile opened the doorway near the sight, "you have developed." The Cajun boy backed away from the sight and ran. Rogue prayed it was for help but knew it was most likely the horror and confusion of the situation. Nonetheless, he fled and the Southerner could only watch helplessly as her peer lay motionless on the cold wood floor of her foster mother's porch.

"Mistique is going to help you. It's time." Rogue could only look up at her foster mother as she spoke. The figure in the doorway stepped out, summoning for Rogue to approach her.

* * *

BACK IN THE PRESENT

* * *

Things changed significantly when she had been forced to move to Bayville. Rogue was stubborn and didn't see logic in the way her leader Mistique was running the Brotherhood. Ever since Magneto broke away from the group and banished Mistique from his alliance for good, things just weren't the same. It wasn't so much the idiots that were on her so called 'team', but more than less the whole concept of what they stood for. What did they stand for? 'Hell if I should know,' the now seventeen year old goth thought to herself.

Professor Charles Xiavier invited her to join the X-men a couple years ago, but she ignorantly denied them (thinking mostly that her currently rebellious alliance was more suitable for her personality). But over time Rogue develop a dislike for Mistique, and eventually the two resented one another. Sick of being used, the Southerner knew it was time to take initiative. The X-men might be a bunch of goody-goodies, but they could be her only hope. After all, it had been three and half years, and she was still cursed with the poisonous touch.

"Where you goin?" Lance Alvers leaned in the doorway watching her get ready to climb out the window.

"None of your business Alvers," She slapped a note on the wooden window frame. "Tell anyone Ah left, and Ah'll make you regret it." He only shook his head in return, not caring what the girl did. She was always a loner, even when she was 'part of a team'.


	3. Cajun in the Kitchen

**CHAPTER 3: Cajun in the Kitchen **

She walked around in front of the gate, deciding either to jump it or wait until morning to speak with Professer Xiavier. Remembering what Pietro had said about their security made her have doubled doubts about just jumping the steal gates. "Arghh great," she sighed heavy with frustration and turned away trying to think of a place to stay for awhile.

"Can I help you with somethin' darlin'?" The rough voice stopped her as she turned recognizing it to be Wolverine. She walked back to the gates seeing him come into view on the other side. He carried a black helmet under his arm, making it obvious he had been out biking and got back recently. "Well?" He stood impatiently glaring at her.

"Ah came to see if Xiavier can find another place for a new recruit." He blinked at her a second, turning around as he spoke.

"Come back in the morning kid, it's late."

"Mah brother... Kurt Wagner... he's here." He stopped turning back looking into her pleading emerald-green eyes. He glanced back at the mansion making a grunt, followed by a sigh.

"Alright... come on." She smiled as she backed away from the bars watching him punch in an open code. "Rogue right?... Just keep quiet." He shook his head mumbling to himself as she walked in, the gates closing behind her. "Am I going soft..?" He spoke to himself too low for the Southerner to hear. He opened the door to the mansion, waiting for her to walk in before him. She looked around; the mansion seemed much bigger inside than it had outside. They walked along quietly for a moment, she gazed at the pictures lining the walls. "You thirsty," Logan inquired.

"Huh?" She looked toward him, coming out of her train of thought.

"I said thirsty… you want a drink?" She shrugged a second, making a small nod. She was completely parched when she had thought about it. He pushed through a door and she followed obediently. The goth looked around quickly before helping herself to a seat on a stool by the counter.

"This place is bigger than it looks." He shrugged, looking around himself for a second while twisting the top of a soda.

"Yea, well when you live here awhile it becomes about average to you." She glanced at the clock that said 12:16am.

"You don't sleep?" He handed it to her raising an eyebrow hearing the comment.

"Why would you say that?"

"Ah donno… it's just pretty late and you don't even look the least bit tired." He sat across from her taking a sip of a beer he had grabbed for himself.

"No... I don't sleep much, but I sleep." He looked away suddenly distracted by the sound of clapping and a small chuckle.

"Bravo Wolverine I see y' have managed t' pick up a woman dis time." The Southerner looked over at the boy leaning in the doorway. He had sunglasses on and black boxers. She looked away towards Wolverine again ignoring the student.

"Why aren't you in bed?... and have you no shame in walking around indecent Gumbo?" If the one he called gumbo had a goal of annoying the shit out of Wolverine, he was succeeding.

"Y' know me Wolfvie I can tell when dere's a new fille in dis ol' school... and what dey wanna see." Logan growled a second watching the boy approach them. "I don' believe I've had de pleasure Chere. Dey call m' Remy-" He set his hand on her shoulder only to receive her glancing at it and shrugging it off carelessly.

"And Ah don't believe you'll have the pleasure anyway." Logan looked satisfied at the look on the Cajun's face. I can tell you now it's not every day a guy like Remy gets shot down. "Do you have a place for me to crash for now? Not ta be rude or anythin... Ah'm juss so exhausted..."

"Sure... after seeing him look like that I'll give you any place you want." Wolverine snickered as Remy watched them get up and walk out. "If you don't mind a spare guestroom for now... in the morning you can talk to Xiavier about staying. Or whatever it is you want."

"Thanks." She watched him close the door behind him, leaving her alone in the new room. Tossing her bag in the corner she fell freely on top of the bed taking in the scent of freshly cleaned sheets. This place was so much cleaner than the Brotherhood boarding house. But the guys, well Remy at least, he seemed as shy as the boys at the boarding house. Although it was nothing new, it was something she could live happily without. Oh well.

* * *

Rogue felt so peaceful, so warm. Whatever she was dreaming about, was happy and bright. The feeling didn't last too long unfortunately. It transformed swiftly into a nightmare; she couldn't breathe, she was drowning!

The Southerner sat up gasping for air as the water dripped from her face. She opened her eyes, wiping it away. Aware of her terrified and pounding heart, she glared over at the Cajun boy that smirked. He was trying not to laugh at the sight. She growled a little as she shook the water from her hands. Remy tossed the empty water bottle in the trash can by her bed.

"Ok swamp-ra,t ya'll wanna explain wah Ah shouldn't punch ya in your throat?" She hissed the words, finally taking notice that he was suited up. He leaned towards her using the metal staff in his hands for support. His grin grew as the anger stirred within her – an ill-fated correlation for Rogue.

"Swamp-rat huh? Nice petite. Look uhh... miss hasn't givin' Remy de pleasure... de Proff says he wants t' see y' handle some danger room sessions wit' us." He watched her look him up and down for a few seconds. "Do y' like my X-uniform... I tink it's plupart de plaire.. oui? [most appealing.. yes?].."

"Actually… Ah was wonderin' where those irresistible shorts disappeared to." She rolled her eyes before turning away from him, burying her head under the pillow. She heard him laugh briefly before feeling the cool breeze caused by the snatching of the blanket. The Cajun could hear a muffled groan under the pillow, resulting in a smile.

"I left y' uniform on de dresser Chere. If y' need help, feel free t' call Gambit." She pulled the pillow off her head shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Of course, I think we all know this only stimulated an even larger grin.


	4. Rogue Totally Like, Gets a Roomie

**CHAPTER 4: Rogue Totally like, gets a Room Mate **

She twirled in front of the mirror gazing at the X-uniform. It had a perfect fit. 'The finishing touch,' she thought, snapping the yellow belt around her waist. She loved the color of the chest guard; green, one of her favorites! It matched her eyes perfectly, not to mention it made movements easier than her Brotherhood uniform.

"You like it?" The Southerner jumped slightly not expecting the soft voice behind her. A young girl walked in, also suited up. She had long brown locks of hair with deep blue eyes.

"Ummm..." Rogue thought a moment, trying not to seem too excited, "yeah, Ah mean... it's alright."

"I've seen you at school," the brunette said cheerily. Rogue watched as the young girl glanced around the room. The Goth's clothes had been thrown in various places. It was a wee bit obvious that she wasn't a very neat person. She held her hand out smiling sweetly at the Southerner, "my name is-"

"Kitty Pryde. Yeah, Ah know." Hand left unacquainted, Kitty tried to maintain her friendly smile, "mah name's Rogue."

"Yea, I know," Kitty mocked her, taking her empty hand back. Tapping her foot, the valley girl quickly searched for something to break the silence. "Soo... ummm... do you like music?" Rogue snorted rolling her eyes.

"Yep."

"TV?"

"Yep."

"Baking?"

"No."

"Uh… huh…," Kitty sighed as Rogue snapped the cap back on her black lip stick. "So ya know, Professer is real happy you decided to like, join us! He figured you would soon." Rogue shrugged, soon hearing the sound of a ringing phone. "Sorry," Kitty continued, "hold on a second."

"Whatevah…" Rogue combed out the last tangle in her hair and straightened her belt. Kitty closed her phone, and looked back at her with a beaming smile. "So... why are ya so perky now? Not that ya'll weren't before."

"Well…" Kitty cleared her throat. "Can you like count to five?"

Silently Rogue crossed her arms, leading Kitty to ignore her non-indulgence. Before a word could be said, a cloud of smoke rapidly appeared.

"Hello!," Shrieked a happy Kurt Wagner. Rogue almost had a heart attack.

"I'll like leave you two alone to get re acquainted, "Kitty winked and closed the door behind her. Rogue, still heavy a sigh of relief, glared at her younger brother.

"Zhat looks great on you! I'm so happy you decided to come to the institute!"

The Southerner couldn't help but smile; uncrossing her arms and embracing Nightcrawler, "yeah, well, you were raht. Mistique was only usin' us…"

"Can I get zat in a recording?" The blue fuzzy boy smiled, and she laughed for the first time that morning. "I told Iceman I'd help him finish breakfast. It's down the hall and –"

"Yea Ah know, Wolverine an' Ah did some hangin' out' last naht." Kurt shrugged.

"Zat must have been great." He twirled his finger in a mocking motion as the Southerner shrugged. "Vell.. I'll see you soon!" just as fast as he appeared, he was gone.

"Just lahke when we was kids," Rogue rolled her eyes, walking to the door. Venturing down the corridor, the new X-woman made a left, entering the kitchen. With daylight to really bring out the beauty and magnitude of the room, Rogue's gaze searched the kitchen in awe. Appreciation was quickly eliminated though, as the children and young adults filling the room, made chaos. Kids, everywhere! Running around tables, jumping up and down, throwing cereal, stretching arms across the counters, freezing chairs, levitating spatulas! Rogue was dizzy.

Logan and Hank sat in their normal seats sipping coffee and reading the paper. Occasionally, Logan would pick up a kid that passed by and threaten him; there was a lot a fist-shaking and growling. Two girls were listening to headphones, while a red-head flipped eggs in a frying pan.

"Boom-boom!" Logan snarled as a blonde dropped a glowing sphere in a milk jug. She giggled simultaneously with the small explosion that followed.

"Badger!" She screamed back, tauntingly.

Rogue approached the agitated Wolverine, clearing her throat. This averted his gaze in her direction. "They love you," She suggested, trying not to laugh as she sat beside him.

"Can you tell?" He mumbled before getting up and walking out of the room.

"Hi!," Rogue jumped, "Aye'm Rahne!" A girl with pig tails leaned into Rogue's face, quite a bit too close, with a beaming smile. When the Southerner's blank expression became boring, the girl frowned and stepped away.

The Southerner sighed, standing up in discomfort. She rubbed her arm, looking around the room again.

"Y' can sit wit m' if y'want," the voice she most certainly did not want to hear any more this morning, chimed. Ahh yes, the annoying one. Rogue turned around to look at Remy. He was still wearing his stupid sunglasses. Scott Summers walked in and over to Jean Grey. 'Oh wait, I do know that girl,' Rogue thought, still ignoring Remy, 'they're seniors at Bayville High.' Noticing Scott's sunglasses, she cocked her head to the side, 'another one? What's with the glasses?' "Hey.. I said—"

"Ah heard you." She snapped back at Gambit, bringing some other students' attention from their breakfast to the situation.

"You two know each other?" Spyke, one of the mutants eating cereal, raised an eyebrow. He wondered how Remy was familiar with the new girl if he wasn't in school anymore.

"Ughh.. don't insult me," she rolled her eyes sitting, now next to Spyke.

"Charming," Remy jumped off the counter. He was quickly leaning over her, taking a muffin from the middle of the table. "..She loves m' homme." he punched her shoulder lightly as she glared at him hatefully.

"Well that's obvious..." Spyke mumbled going back to the bowl of Captain Crunch.

"Students please report to the danger room for morning sessions," Xiavier's voice crackled on the speakers in the kitchen.

"Well that's our cue. You comin'?," Spyke inquired. She shrugged carelessly as he stood up, snapping on a helmet. Before she knew it, she found herself strolling along beside him. If she had a choice, she'd walk by herself – but unfortunately, she didn't yet know the way.

"Ah don' got ta wear one of those things do Ah?" She knocked on his helmet, he laughed.

"Nah.. I prefer to use my skateboard during danger room."

"Oh." She walked on, entering the room. Overall, the simulation went along well. Everyone welcomed her to the team. Wolverine was impressed at her accuracy. She hadn't even used her powers inside and her normal abilities were quite proficient. As the day proceeded, much of it was spent testing her physical abilities and limitations. It was important to Xavier's gang, she realized, that the team doesn't rely solely on their powers.

It wasn't long before the training subsided for the day, leaving her achy and well, sweaty. With sweat, comes the un-pleasantries of stink and sticky. A shower was certainly in order! After doing so, the Southerner, relaxed and happy with how the day had gone, ventured back to her assigned quarters. It was six pm and the prospect of pajamas was a pleasant one. She decided to explore. Eventually making it to the stairwell, Rogue leaned over the railing to take a peek at the downstairs.

"Don't fall," she turned seeing Logan walking towards her. Hardly smiling, she gave a slight shrug. "Professor wants to see ya," he beckoned a thumb over his shoulder. The curious girl nodded. She had been wondering all day when the leader of the X-men would want to speak with her. Logan led her without delay, to the large office (or did it look more like a small library?) of Professor X.

"Logan said you wanted to see me Professer?"

"Yes Rogue. I indeed think you're a great asset to this team."

She smiled in return, 'Finally Ah'm wanted.'

"Ah, yes, well you've always been wanted. You have always been welcome here." She blushed slightly realizing her thoughts may have been a bit too enthusiastically loud. "There's more to just learning how to develop and control your powers here," he wheeled closer to her, "we want to eliminate the anti-mutant movement. It is imperative that no matter how cold humanity may be to us, we show them that we, in actuality, we're just like everyone else."

Rogue nodded, "Ah realize what ya'll are working towards—"

"—but you're skeptical," Xiavier smiled assuringly. "Rogue, in time, you will believe more." He paused and she smiled softly. "For now, just trust us enough to help you."

"Thank you," she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand.

"I do have other news for you," he made his way back to his desk, "you will be moving to a new room."

"Huh?" She stared baffled a moment as he laced his fingers, resting his chin on them. "Is this because Ah haven't been exactly tidy? Ah can clean up—"

"—you will have a new room-mate. Somebody who can show you around and help you to gain a better understanding of what we, as the X-men, stand for."

"Oh… no," Rogue laughed a moment before completely losing her smile. "See... Ah don't do good with," long pause, "people." She nodded at her own statement, but Professor X only grinned happily in return.

"Kitty, please come in." The perky valley girl trotted in, glowing with gusto - just as she had been in the morning. Rogue crossed her arms giving a small groan.

"Did Ah mention Ah don't do good with, uhh... social people? mostly?"

"Oh I can totally be like anti-social, don't worry." She hung a loose arm around Rogue's shoulders as she chewed her gum, "we'll be the, total of best buds, or ummm we can be the best of worst enemies ever. I totally get your hate fad." The valley girl nodded as Rogue stared blankly forward – there was occasional blinking.

"Ah don' think—"

"Come on Rogue. I like, already got your stuff packed in your old room."

"Joy," she was dragged helplessly back down the hallway with the excited Shadowcat. Picking up her bags and saying her farewell to the big now empty guestroom, the Southerner huffed a frustrated breath.

"So tell me.. like, what are you into?"

"Nothing."

"Oh..." She walked on a minute quiet, trying to think of something to make Rogue feel more comfortable. "I like the color pink."

"Hate it."

"Oh..." Kitty looked around a second. "I like music ya know... I like country and pop."

"Hate it."

"Oh." Kitty now huffed, trying to think of something else to say. "Well I like pancakes. Do you hate those?" She expected a drawn out 'yes' or 'hate it'.

"Like them..."

"Really?" Kitty turned to her as she stopped in front of their room. Rogue though a moment, shrugging slightly.

"Only blueberry," the valley girl was unlocking the door when she looked back at Rogue with a frown. "What?" The goth blinked at her expression.

"Hate them," Kitty said, and Rogue, fighting a smirk, shrugged.

'Like, oh my god! How do I make this girl happy... she's totally abnormal,' the valley girl was becoming discouraged.

"Are these _your_ dolls," Rogue crossed her arms.

"Yea…you like them?" The Southerner squinted at them a moment turning her head slightly to the side.

"No." Kitty rolled her eyes closing the door behind her. Before she could step away, a knock broke the terribly awkward and riveting (sarcasm) conversation.

"Hey petite, can Remy come in?"

"No way! Go away Remy. The last time I like let you in, you like, started a fire on my new curtains with your stupid cigarettes."

"Kurt dared me to!"

"I said no," she struggled to close the door. Her unsuccessful attempts left the Cajun chuckling on the other side.

"Hey! Swamp-rat!" Kitty and Gambit froze, both directing their attention to Rogue. "Do you know you can castrate somebody with a cord?" Kitty blinked a second, watching her new roommate tug playfully on the computer cord coming from an outlet. She became wide-eyed at the thought.

"Ok! So… I guess I'll see you around Chanton," Remy walked away swiftly and obediently, muttering something French to himself. He spared a glance or two back at the room, just to make sure Rogue was still in it.

"Ughh, Remy, I just—" Kitty clenched her fists and growled. For the first time, she provoked a genuine smile from Rogue.

"—hate him?"

'Maybe this isn't like, hopeless after all!'


	5. Southerners and Rain Drops

**CHAPTER 5: Nothing but a Dull Knife **

Shadowcat had been observing Rogue for about a half 'n hour now. The Southerner was so interesting to watch. Posters of freaky looking bands and guitars now lined her side of the room. She had also requested the side closer to the balcony.

"Who's that," Kitty asked, pointing at one of the posters.

"Slipknot."

"Ekk… I'm totally gonna have like, nightmares." The goth shrugged the comment off as she started unpacking her clothes.

"So what's the deal with the Cajun?" Rogue, rarely making inquisitions, finally spoke up unsolicited.

"Remy?" Kitty rolled over on her bed so she was looking up towards her ceiling, "Remy is just, well, Remy. Totally adorable ya know... and charming." She let out a giggly sigh, "He flirts all the time, and he's like, the biggest womanizer I've ever met." She paused, "It seems like he's got a new girl every other night—"

"That's what Ah figured." She rolled back onto her stomach, supporting her head in her hands and providing attention in Rogue's direction again.

"No, don't get me wrong! Gambit's like, really a good guy 'n all. He really is! He's sweet and stands up for us when people pick at us." Kitty watched Rogue as she put her clothes away, "but I swear, he totally drives me insane. Insane!" The valley girl sat up and Rogue, now busy pushing the empty bag under her bed sat back on her heels. "I heard you like, shot him down." The Southerner couldn't help the smile that formed across her face.

"Shot him down?" Rogue snorted.

"Yeah, you know, he was trying to be all like, swavé, and you were all 'ew'."

"I did not use the word, ew."

"Well, you know what I mean."

"First off, Ah don't do 'relationships'. Second, he's so arrogant and…cocky. Ah can't stand that."

"Wish I could've seen his face..." Kitty giggled. A silence followed between the two as Rogue sat on the bed and the sudden sound of light rain began to paddle against the sliding balcony door. "Great I hate rain." The Southerner got up walking to the window a minute. Putting her hand to the glass, she looked out at the institute grounds. Everything seemed to be darkened; it was only fall so it wasn't completely black yet. It was already quarter to seven.

"Ah think Ah'm gonna go out for awhile..."

"You're crazy. Don't get sick! It's still only your second day here." The Southerner picked up her brown trench coat and headed out the door. Slipping it over her pajamas, she walked down the silent hallway. Passing the open kitchen door she saw a few students sitting together, sharing some laughs. Approaching the front door, she opened it, hearing the rain splash against the ground. Walking down out from under the porch, she looked up letting the rain drench her face. She closed her eyes and smiled. The rain brought her back to childhood days; splashing through puddles and holding your mom's hand…

"I haven't seen y' smile since y' got 'ere." She turned around as her arms fell to her sides. Her white locks dangled around her face, occasionally clinging to her cheeks until she wiped them to the side.

"What do you want?" He shrugged a second as he put his hands into his pockets and stared out at her. He stood under the porch where it was dry.

"I was out 'ere… when I heard the door open. I came t' see who else would be crazy enough t' come out and see de rain." She looked away, opening her mouth for a slight breath. "What are y' crazy? Come out 'ere in your pajamas wit a non water proof coat? Not to mention dat it's hanging open." He looked her up and down a second, gazing at her firm and exposed belly. This of course plastered a cocky smirk on his face. "Not dat I'm complainin'." She took the right side of her coat in her left hand pulling it over to cover up. She glared back at him in disgust and as normal, stomped back to the porch wordless. She passed the Cajun as he took a cigarette from his pocket. She was just about to turn the knob on the door when he spoke again. "It's funny ya know petite... I feel like..." She turned to look at him as he slowly took another drag. Her stare never softened, but she was curious as to what he had to say. The Southerner watched where she knew his sunglasses covered traveling eyes. His gaze soon made its way back to her emerald ones as all sarcasm was lost in his voice, and it fell serious... "Like, I know y' already." Looking away, and feeling uneasy at the tone he used, she swallowed.

"Ah think you're the crazy one swamp-rat. It's not like Ah don't feel like wastin' mah time out here with you but, oh wait that's exactly why."

Facing the door his instinctive cocky mockery came back as fast as it had retreated, "your act don' work when dere aint an audience Chere." Releasing the doorknob from her grasp for the second time, she stared towards the oak door, wishing looks could knock it down.

"Who says Ah'm actin?"

"Y' can't possibly hate as much as y' make it seem...what did I do?"

"You don't know me."

"Where y' from..?" She just stared at him with the expression of distrust towards his question. Taking a drag he leaned up more against the railing to prove how much she didn't make him feel uncomfortable. She would never know, but that was a lie; this girl was definitely different from any other he had met. He'd only known her for about a day, and she was baffling him beyond belief. "What," his eyebrows raised, noticing her expression. It suggested, 'you're a loser.' "Oh, sorry, I forgot y' don' want anyone to know y'. C'était une question simple mon dieu. [it was a simple question.. my god.]" He sighed heavily, feeling the sudden sense to do an unlike Remy LeBeau thing and just give up. He turned back around, looking out into the rain.

"Ah'm from around here, but Ah originally lived in Mississippi…" Surprisingly enough to him, she now stood beside him. She turned away from the rain, her lower mid back resting against the railing. Pushing herself up, she sat on it now, almost eye level with him. He smiled as he leaned his shoulder up against the pillar next to him.

"See? Did it hurt dat much to talk wit' Remy?"

"Don't get used to it Cajun." Looking down her hands, she pushed aside stray strands of her soaked hair. A silence was around them for a moment.

Remy broke it, feeling more confidence in his charm, "I'm from de New Orleans, but I've lived up 'ere f'r de past three years." He looked toward her, noticing she was actually looking at him now. "De X-men bring Remy security from… …tings." He ran his free hand through his shaggy brown hair, "what's your power anyway?"

"What's yours?" One of her hands ran up and down the other arm trying to get a little warmer. Though they had been in the danger room together previously that morning, they were least observant of each other's powers.

"Kinetic energy," stretching his gloved hand out into the rain he pulled it back in as he continued, "well.. I can kinetically charge tings. Make'em explode. But y' still haven't told m' what your—"

"Why do ya wear those…?" Changing the subject immediately she pointed towards his sunglasses. "Ya wear them all the time," she paused, "like Scott."

He leaned away slightly as her hand seemed to reach for them. His own quickly pressing on the corner of the glasses; protest to their removal.

"Uh oh," she smiled deceitfully as she crossed her arms. "So the smooth talkin' Swamp-rat can trip over his own tongue…"

"Smooth talkin', Chere?" Gambit quickly regained his smug stature, not wanting Rogue to think she'd gotten one up on him. "Y' tink I'm smooth talking? Oh, and it's dat tongue dat I know y' wanna taste, so I'd be assumin' y' best be mindful o' your words petite. That is, if y' want some Remy LeBeau…" His sarcasm did the trick. She was instantly reminded of why she couldn't stand this man.

"Your ego is huge..." Rolling her eyes she slid slightly back down and off the rail, standing again.

"Amongst other tings..." Her face became hot; embarrassment and rage. Getting on the girl's nerves was becoming much easier than Gambit had anticipated.

"Your act doesn't work without an audience…" Rogue snapped and shook her head. The statement was enough to bring a serious expression back to the Cajun's face.

"Look, sorry. I wont bug y' anymore if y' stay—"

"Why should Ah spend mah time out here with you?" The words rushed, harsh and matter-of-fact.

"They don' really protect people like Scott's protect from his blast," Remy swallowed, "I guess if anyting, dey protect me." Her glare still obvious, softened barely. He walked to her slowly, trying to think of the words to use without offending her more than she already was. "So, yeah, Remy admits he tinks highly of himself; luck wit de filles and got one, in m' opinion, bad ass power. But then there's m' looks." She looked away a second feeling uneasy about how comfortable he seemed with standing inches from her. "My eyes, dey been called devil eyes." He was quiet a second; ashamed perhaps.

Rogue reached for the sunglasses, taking a delicate hold on them. Would he protest? No sound came between the two aside from light breathing. She removed them, instantly taken aback; surprise and admiration. His eyes weren't demonic; they were a deep blazing crimson floating in a sea of black. She opened her mouth, almost dazed, but made no sound. "Freaky huh, "he suggested, "yea I don' prefer t' wear 'em, but I always do in public now."

"It's not freaky. Ah think they're beautiful." He studied her eyes back, a smile forming on his lips. The goth was lost; trying to find an seemingly impossible retreat back to reality.

"I can say de same t' you." The phrase brought her back. "Y' better get in before y' catch cold... see y' later?"

"God forbid…" A smirk danced on his lips as she turned away in a disgusted manner. Remy slipped the sunglasses back on as she gripped the doorknob and paused, "don't hide those swamp-rat. They ain't anything to be ashamed of."

"Maybe you shouldn't hide either petite." She stared at her feet a second blinking in thought before swallowing and looking back to reply. She left the Cajun alone in thought as he watched the oak door close."You don't have t' hide yourself 'ere..." he mumbled the statement to himself, and finally broke his stare with the solid door.


	6. Déjà vu

**CHAPTER 6: Déjà vu**

Three months had passed since Rogue's arrival at Xavier's institute and the new X-woman couldn't believe how quickly time had gone by. Where does it go? Winter was officially over, leaving only a scarce trace of its existence on the ground. Snow was scattered in miscellaneous patches across the school's acres. The Southerner hardly considered the other students as friends; more like good acquaintances. She w orked hard with the team, and her abilities were progressing brilliantly. If she did consider anybody a friend, to her surprise, it was Kitty and Tabitha. Tabitha was the girl who dropped the small glowing sphere into the milk her first morning at the institute. The trouble maker's rebellious nature captured the Southerner's attention and the two got along quite well. Despite their first official encounter being a brutal shower and toilet flushing incident, Rogue was fond of Boom Boom.

A closer relationship between Wolverine and Rogue also flourished. Initially, they found commonality in their interest in combat and danger room sessions. But over time, the grizzly Logan felt fondly towards the young girl – in a father/daughter sort of way. The two had much more internal conflict in common than expected and felt a sort of outsider union.

Reuniting with Kurt was an especially good experience for the Southern belle. It in fact, was almost as if the Brotherhood had never even happened. For a year or so, Rogue and her brother both fell under the spell of Mistique and her promises. With confrontation from the X-men however, Nightcrawler's heart led him to indulge Xiavier and his mission. It was hard for Rogue to regard her brother as a traitor (as suggested in the eyes of Mistique), and she never truly did. In short, the two have developed a typical brother and sister routine – Kurt bamfs into the room, bugs Rogue, Rogue gets mad, the two hug it out.

Rogue's trust and understanding of Professor X and what the X-men stand for has also evolved; a once unconvinced and skeptical new recruit was now an advocate and supporter (for the most part) of helping to survive humanity. She sought understanding amongst "normal" people, along with her peers. She wanted to live in peace.

Remy LeBeau was a different story; a big fat flirt. Well, a big fat flirt with a pretty good looking body. Rogue couldn't see why any woman would consider such an arrogant ass as "sexy" or irresistible. And yet, she was sure the boy had been up more skirts than any gynecologist. But Kitty was right, as vile as Rogue felt the supposed heartthrob was; he had a good heart… sometimes. For Christmas, the Southerner found a small box on her pillow. Inside were gorgeous emerald and diamond earrings; indisputably expensive. She was sure Remy left them. If she didn't love them so much, it would have been much easier to throw them away. She had really tried to give them back, but somehow, he wasn't around to throw the box at. Within a couple of days, she wore them, just to see how they looked. Immediately she realized how well they brought out her own emeralds, her eyes that is. A week or so later, it was as if the Cajun had never even disappeared; he was everywhere.

"Dat's some belle diamonds y' got dere petite. Almost as belle as y'," he would smirk, and Rogue would just shrug him off. She began to feel quite guilty though, as he was the only one at the mansion who had even given her a gift. But what Rogue didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and she didn't have to say a word; Remy Lebeau was just pleased to see her wear them as much as she did. Pleased was an understatement, he was thrilled.

As well as things seemed to be going, everyone happened to be very uptight on this particular evening. Rahne had taken a bad fall that afternoon from a tree and broke her arm. There was a lot of goofing around and little supervision. Many of the students played powers tag, which Rogue had little idea about, since she was usually found plopped under a tree with a book. With little explanation as to what happened exactly, many of the young students were pointing blame at one another. Professor X and Logan had just led Rahne, with arm in cast and tears down her cheeks, out of the recreation room. Rogue, sitting in a window sill away from most of the conversation, peered over her book as the young girl was led into the corridor. The silence was broken when Scott, sitting on the couch with Jean, crossed his arms and spoke up.

"You guys should be ashamed," he scowled mostly at the younger teenage boys, "making her climb up that tree when she didn't want to!"

"Aw, shut up Summers! I didn't see you trying to stop it!" Bobby Drake stood up, tired of Scott's lectures. "We didn't make—"

"You know she is absolutely terrified of heights," Scott snapped.

"We were just goofing around. If you hadn't be—" Bobby was interrupted,

"It wasn't him anyway! Jubilee was the one screaming 'go higher'!" Berserker stood up trying to transfer blame.

"What!" The young Asian girl chimed into the conversation, coming out of her lean from against the wall. Kitty Pryde was playing a card game on the floor with Gambit, who was sitting in a large armchair. Exasperated by the constant nagging that had been going on all night, the valley girl let out a huff of breath. "I didn't do anything, "Jubilee continued, "It really was Bobby!"

"Was not," Berserker and Bobby screamed back at her as their hands slightly gave off a small hint of spark and frost.

Kitty couldn't take it anymore, "ok guys, like, settle down! It's nobody's fault, these things happen!" She placed an Ace in front of Remy, who was by the way, also sick of the seemingly never-ending argument.

"Yeah because forcing somebody to do something they don't want to until they get hurt, isn't anybody's fault," said Scott.

"Just let 'em go Kitty, Ah'd put money on it that everybody blames each other 'til Rahne blames herself anyway," Rogue couldn't keep to herself any longer either. Her accent was thick, which was always an indication of annoyance. Gambit smirked at the comment and Kitty seemed to just shrug it off. The brief silence felt so much longer than it really was. Everybody looked at Scott, who had opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by his girlfriend Jean Grey. She whispered something in his ear, and a defeated Cyclops just obediently followed her to the corridor. Likely, the two were giving up on the situation. Roberto took the opportunity to sit up and redirect attention to the goth.

"Oh so you can't even take the blame a little bit?" Rogue looked up in surprise, "I mean, you weren't sitting under the tree or anything. You weren't _right _there, or anything." The Southerner snapped down the book as her eyes narrowed at the young boy.

"Hey hey hey! Pas le discours à son aimé cela [don't talk to her like that!]! You watch your mouth when talkin t' a femme, got it!" The boy plopped down on the sofa, arms crossed, not wanting to argue with the Cajun. Figuring he'd just get a bad look from Rogue anyway, Remy leaned back in his chair, refocusing his eyes to the cards in his hand. What was unexpected was to hear Amara get into the argument next.

"Maybe it is a lot of Rogue's fault." Gambit looked up surprised that somebody would even challenge his authority, being the oldest by far, in the room. "I think she should stop sticking her nose in the book so much and catch somebody next time they fall, RIGHT NEXT TO HER!"

"So it's mah fault that you guys told her to go higher and prove she wasn't afraid of heights?"

"No, it's your fault she broke her arm!" The girl approached the now standing up Southerner. The two were inches away from each other, their voices more angry and rising in volume. "Maybe if you caught her when she fell—"

"Catch her? Ah didn't even know she was fallin' til she was layin next ta me!"

"Come out of whatever world it is you're in Rogue! You should've been paying more attention us anyway your majesty! Since you know, you are a little older!"

"Don't push me squirt," The goth's face grew red. How did she get involved in any of this? Her responsibility wasn't to babysit! And even if it was, accidents happen, this was getting ridiculous!

"Just because you're older doesn't mean I'm afraid of you! I don't even think you have powers," Magma smirked giving Rogue a slight push.

"Oh you'll be afraid of me," Rogue took two steps towards the young recruit, who took one back but clenched a lava-like fist. Bobby snatched back Amara as Berserker quickly took hold of the pissed off goth. Rogue ripped her shoulders from him quickly as Gambit spoke.

"Break it up filles," He pushed his way between them, looking mostly at Rogue. A tense minute passed, the girls broke their stare, and stepped away. Rogue was distracted by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The situation was eerily similar to the one she had faced on the most life-changing night of her life. Gambit mumbled something about being 'too old for this' and walked out of the room. 'I need a cigarette,' he thought to himself, heaving a small sigh. The sound of footsteps stalking harshly behind him. Turning, the sight of Rogue caught him off guard. She looked up into his sunglasses, opening her mouth to say something.

"Ah've heard… did Ah tell you…"She stammered, unsure if she was remembering anything right at all. The sweet talker raised an eyebrow and released a concerned chuckle.

"Petite? You okay? Y' aint makin' any sense..."

She shook her head and blinked for a moment, "Yeah. Yeah, Ah don't know. Déjà vu maybe?"

This of course, was a perfect time to put the old charm to use, "Oh Remy knows. Y' been wanting t' tell m' something about how long y' have been waitin t' tell me you've loved me? Stalkin' Remy now Chere? Didn't tink dat was your style." Wriggling eyebrows accompanied the cheesy pick-up line.

"Ah wish Ah had the ambition to slap that smirk of your face. Ah think Ah've always hated, think Ah probably always will," Rogue crossed her arms.

"Hey at least y' tink of me den…" Turning so he couldn't see the small smile form on her lips, she shook her head, venturing back to her room. So Gambit was annoying, stupid, a flirt, and had a huge ego... at least he could make her laugh.

'But why,' she pondered, 'did that seem so familiar?' Even Remy had seemed so…Oh she was thinking way too much about this. That's what déjà vu is right? An apparent recollection, a feeling of "this has happened before"? Mind tricks. What she needed was a long bubble bath, relaxation, time to clear her head. She opened her bedroom door and dashed to the bathroom before Kitty could say a word. 'Clear that swamp-rat out of my head,' she thought, slipping out of her clothes and turning on the hot water.


	7. Flirt Harder Cajun, S'il Vous Plait!

**CHAPTER 7: Flirt Harder Cajun, S'il Vous Plait! **

High School, alias "teenager's prison", also known as, "one of the top five most boring places in the world"; why are those very last few seconds of ninth period an eternity? Time on that clock ticks away forever; the echo of the second hand making its long drawn out journey to the twelve. As soon as the bell rings, time speeds up and so does everything else. Gathering up her book in her arms with surrounding students, Rogue savored the feeling of freedom. The goth made her way to the door. The hallways were as they always were – students chattering, some running, a few grouping together to make plans here, cheerleaders catching up with the football players there. Yes, all was well at Bayville High. A paper airplane made its way overhead, soon followed by a teacher complaining of its use and snatching it down.

An unexpected jolt brought Rogue's attention from her feet to the boy in front of her. They had collided shoulders in the mass of students, "Watch it skunk head!" The boy stared at her, waiting for an apology.

"No you watch it hot shot!" With a venomous glare and push, the X-woman pressed her finger in the boy's chest.

"Whatever," he mumbled and turned around, pretending she was nothing but air in the hallway. Without another thought concerning the incident, the goth continued her pace to her locker. High school was the worst, especially when you didn't have many or even any, friends. Of course there were the students from the institute, but it wasn't the same. What would it be like to have a normal friend again? She thought back to the days when she and Amber would laugh at the girls who thought they were so chic, so cool. She missed having what felt like a normal life. She was too afraid to get too close to anybody, not having touched another person since leaving the Brotherhood. A group of girls giggled near her locker, the Southerner ignored them as usual. With the twist of a lock and a small bang on the door, her school assigned personal space was revealed to the outside world.

"Rogue," Scott called as she exchanged her books for her bag. She slammed the small door shut and leaned her left arm up against it. Scott waited for another student to pass him before approaching her, "do you need a ride today?"

She shrugged and slung the backpack over her shoulder, "Ah'll probably walk."

"We're going to the mall," He smiled, as they began to walk down the emptying hallway.

"The joys of the world shower down upon me at the thought of walking around the mall with Jean and Kitty," her sarcasm had little effect on Scott. He had grown accustom to Rogue's independence by now, hoping to draw here away from it.

"You sure," he chimed with a smile.

'Gosh, he's cute sometimes,' the girl thought, immediately shaking it from her head. 'Did I just call somebody cute? Oh God.'

"Come on…" He was a wee-bit convincing. His plan may have worked, but the sight of Jean Grey and Katherine Pryde arm-in-arm was enough to rattle Rogue away from any conforming.

"The weather is nice today," Rogue cleared her throat, "Ah'd much rather take a walk since the snow is gone. First walk of the season!" The girls approached with arms in the arm to wave, but the goth turned her back before they could get a word out. She rushed towards the front of the school, hoping to avoid any more confrontation with other school mates.

A lot of the student body had gathered outside; Duncan Matthews and his football jocks leaned around the stairs railing, Taryn Wood walked along with the 'popular' girls, the Book Club found a spot at a table to talk about, well, books, and everyone else did their own thing. Rogue covered her ears from the Ruckus with headphones, tapped play, and trotted along the school sidewalk towards the road.

"Hey Rogue," a faint voice, drowned by the noise of what she considered to be music, called. She looked around until Spyke's hand was waving hello in her face. With an irritated sigh, the headphones were soon dangling around her neck.

"What d' ya want Porcupine?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out," He looked back at the skaters surrounding him, "You know, add some female finesse to our team."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Well," This hadn't been the first time he'd asked before. Evan was determined to recruit a female with what he considered to be, sass, to the group, "I was just thinking that now summer's on its way—"

"Ah'm out of here," Rogue huffed, pressing on without listening to another word.

"Yeah, okay, later then," He called disappointed and without her hearing, "see I told you guys." His friends frowned and pointed at another female heading their direction.

She had made her way to the road, preparing to cross and head back to the mansion. It shouldn't have surprised her so much, but the fact a motorcycle just nearly ran her over was surely enough to make her shriek. It had halted right in front of her, her own fault since she'd failed to check both ways up and down the street.

"Do you always strut directly into traffic?" Teased the biker.

"What the hell is—"Rogue kicked the front of the bike, shooting the driver, who was taking off their helmet a look, "Oh, Great." The fuming Southerner stomped across the street, ignoring the Cajun she didn't feel like arguing with. But as usual, Gambit couldn't resist a good game of verbal cat and mouse. He trailed her momentarily, finding a good spot to park his ride alongside her."What do you want swamp-rat?" Her voice was laced with a tiny bit of despair, would she _ever_ get the alone time she wanted so badly today?

"Relax petite, Remy just wanted t' know if y' wanted a ride home?"

"Why is everybody offering me rides?" He raised an eyebrow and she shook her head, "Do Ah look desperate? No!"

Another cocky grin grew on his face as he looked over the small dent where she'd taken out her frustration on his precious motorcycle, "So, y' gonna pay cash or credit for dat?"

"Get away from me," Rogue hissed and crossed her arms. He stepped off the bike and put the helmet on the seat. Walking up to her, his head and stare seemed to glance playfully around; observing the school grounds and students. His attention returned to her, she could see the red behind his glasses as he smiled.

"Den what are y' gonna pay wit Chere?"

"You are such an asshole. How many times am Ah gonna have to tell you ta leave me alone Gambit?"

"Always one more time petite," He examined her up and down, unsure if she could tell or not. He assumed she didn't since he still didn't have a black eye. Rogue made a small growl, looking past the Cajun and seeing Taryn Wood's little gang pointing in her direction.

She huffed and crossed her arms, 'probably being jerks'.

"So I can't bring y' home? I was just' passin' by?"

"Not a chance." Rolling her eyes, she huffed again, this time causing a white lock in front of her eyes to move away. Shifting her weight to the other leg, she waited for him. Why wouldn't he just leave? "What are you waiting for?"

Smirking as usual, he took his fingers and tugged at the bottom rim of the goth's shirt, "reimbursement for the abuse m' bike took Chere." His hand was immediately slapped away, and life saved by the sound of Boom Boom's voice…

"I got it," the blonde shouted, "I got it!"

Rogue presented her last threat of the hour to Remy, poking a finger violently into his chest, "Stop botherin' me. And that doesn't mean right now, it means at all. Leave me alone."

With a smile at the corner of his mouth, the New Orleans man blew a kiss and set off on his bike.

"Gumbo giving you a hard time again," teased Boom Boom.

"Just tell me what you've got."

"Okay," she cleared her throat, "I've got… two free tickets… to jam fest next weekend!" Finally, something good would brighten up Rogue's day! Well, assuming one of those tickets was for her.

"Awesome, who ya takin'?"

"Are you really going to ask me that?"

"Me?" Boom-boom laughed nodded, still excited.

"Well yeah! You're the only other person at the Institute that will even listen to these bands…" She stopped and grabbed Rogue's shoulder, startling her slightly, "besides! I think you're the only person that would appreciate it." An rare and very large smile crossed Rogue's face. Finally, this day was cheering up!

"Thanks! Just, really, let me know if ya change your mind. Ah'll understand!"

"I don't intend to. Dude, so Badger's totally got to learn to lighten up! I threw one of Kitty's muffins at him today, "notoriously painful, "Dang, looked like it hurt! He literally chased me to school this morning." She pulled a candy bar from her pocket and began to unwrap it as they strolled on, "So, really, what was Remy doing here?"

"Just, tryin' ta hit on me again or something I guess." She paused looking down at her combat boots, "Ah can't stand the way he acts. He uses people… women."

"I don't think he's trying to use you. It's just… well, Remy. He flirts with anything that can look at him." It was the truth.

"Yeah well, ta me, Ah figure it's just a challenge," her tone was laced with annoyance, "he wants to say, hey, Ah got ta the untouchable girl."

"Well, he'll eventually leave you alone." Tabitha thought over her statement a moment, "I hope, for his sake at least. Well, his life." The cheery girl smiled taking another bite of her Snickers bar and offering Rogue some.

"No thanks, " This was a good time to change the subject, "How was your day?"

"Well," Tabitha swallowed, looking upwards as if in deep thought, "I blew up the soda machine again… and my locker. Principle Kelly caught me in the teachers' lounge, and I got free tickets."

"Wait," Rogue considered the trouble maker's daily activities, "How exactly did you get these tickets?"

Boom Boom smirked, "It was a nice day. Why didn't you go to the mall?"

"Oh you know, as difficult as it is to pass up an opportunity to watch Kitty and Jean shop, and Scott watch Jean try on jeans," she smiled, "Oh wait, it wasn't difficult at all."

"I hear that!"

"Is Amara still peeved?"

"Not really, she's frustrated with blame flying around, but that's it." Memories from the night before flooded into Rogue's train of thought; the déjà vu she had, Gambit, the whole horrible tense situation. Everything had felt so weird. The two carried on home, making varied conversation.

* * *

It was only a half hour later that Rogue found herself laying on her bed trying to figure out how to write a three thousand word essay. What was so difficult about that? Well, first off, her thought was too clouded today, and second, she forgot her French book at school. It's a little difficult to write an essay in French without a French book to help. Scooping up her book and tucking the pencil behind her ear with some auburn hair, she made her journey down the empty corridor. Logan was Canadian, right? French Canadian, maybe? Hopfully. Entering the recreation room, the Southerner cleared her throat, gaining some attention from the TV entranced Wolverine.

"What's up kid?" He asked as she plopped down beside him. He raised the remote, turning off the TV.

"French homework," she smiled sweetly, mostly hopeful. He gave her a blank look, "Well, you're Canadian right?"

"And that means I can speak French?"

"…French…Canadian…?"

"No." He chuckled, "American history, maybe, but French? Sorry Rogue, I can't help you there darlin'."

"Please," she pleaded. He sighed, taking her essay and turning it around a few times. He peered at it, upside down, then right-side up; occasionally turning his head to the side. Remy, who had been seated at the table in the back of the room, glanced up while shuffling his cards.

"Yeah," Logan's throaty voice said after a minute or two of silence, "the conclusion is pretty strong. Good work Rogue." He turned back on the TV. She now starred at him blankly.

"But, Ah didn't even finish the introduction…"

"Sorry rogue," He frowned, "I tried."

Her head dropped in defeat. She stood up, looking around the room for help. There he was, Remy LeBeau, shuffling, smirk on his face, legs crossed, and ready for her to beseech his help. They made eye contact for a moment or two before she scrunched her brow, turned her head, and stomped out of the room. She made her way swiftly to the next person she could think of, and knocked on the door.

"Come in Rogue." Called Xavier from the other side of the door.

"Proffessa Ah was wonderin if—"

"—French homework? Sorry Rogue. Maybe Storm can help?" A disappointed Rogue cursed herself for not buying a French dictionary for cases such as this. Whirling around to leave, she was stopped by his voice. "Rogue," she looked back.

"Yeah Professor?"

"Why don't you ask Remy?" Cringing at the thought she shook her head. "I think we both know he speaks fluently…"

"Ah'll go find Ms. Munroe," she sighed. 'I'm not desperate yet' she thought, catching herself. Professor X likely heard that, "besides" she started, "he's busy playin' cards with himself."

"I can make time Chere," She jumped at the playful voice behind her. Cringing again, she turned to the Cajun leaning against the open doorway.

"No, really, Ah think Ah'd rather ask Ororo…" she crossed her arms.

"Je vous ne peut pas aider le problème" [I can help you no problem]

"Je n'ai pas besoin de votre aide" [Ah don't need your help]

"Donc alors pourquoi faire ne vous écrivez pas cet essai sur votre propre." [so then why don't you write this essay on your own?]

The Southerner looked confused for a moment, mad at herself for not being able catch all the words.

"Quel Petite de question ne peut pas me comprendre?" [what's the matter petite, can't understand me?]

His sarcasm was enough to ignite the flame inside her. She stomped past him, her cheeks hot with embarrassment and anger. Why is it so typical of him to act so, taunting? He could be such a jerk.

'Rogue, maybe you should give him a chance, instead of being so stubborn?' The Professor called to her mentally, and of course politely. She stopped, clenching her fists.

"Fine!" Remy jumped, not expecting the girl to bark so loud. She marched back to him, "Ah'm going to finish my calculus first, then take a shower," he smiled and opened his mouth, "STOP!" His eyes grew wide and he pursed his lips, "And then, Ah will meet you in the kitchen to finish this essay. Don't be late!"

"I wouldn't dream of it Chere," he put his arms up in defense with a smile. She sighed and headed back down the hallway, "It's a date!" He called with a big grin. She replied silently with an unpleasant finger gesture.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?" She muttered to herself, and pulling her hair into a ponytail. 'Why did I even mention being late? He's doing this on purpose.' She sat at the dining room table impatiently. Swift and silently, the Cajun slipped into the room and dropped into his seat.

He leaned closer to Rogue, "Here mon Chere, I'm sorry for the delay." She obviously wasn't amused. "Où commençons-nous [where do we start]?"

Looking away from the pile of crumpled up pile of papers she glanced at him and spoke, "with you speakin' English so," She stopped, noticing he wasn't wearing his sunglasses, "Ah, can, understand ya." She quickly looked away.

It was the first time in awhile she had seen his eyes; she couldn't help but love them. They were the one thing she could ever even admit to herself that she'd love about him. Unfortunately for her, Remy LeBeau is not ignorant in what ladies' fancy. She loved his eyes and he knew it; he could tell, and he knew when and how to use it to his advantage.

"Y' ok," He asked playfully, knowing very well that it had been a could couple of months since she'd seen his so-called devil eyes. Rogue instantly snapped out of her trance, inspecting her essay.

"Yeah, fine." He shrugged leaning in closer to her. "Swamp-rat," she started, but he instantaneously moved away, his cocky smile returning.

Before she could say another word he spoke, "Aww, dis is kids stuff. I can do dis no problem Chere."

"Yea but Ah'm the one that has ta do it."

"Okay, no problem!" His voice was cheery, "so tell m' what y' want to write and if y' need help with a word, an sentence, I'll help! Anyting y' need help wit, I'll help!" He leaned back in his chair stretching slightly as he watched her. Rogue sighed and scribbled her name on the top of a new piece of paper. The date and title of the paper followed; the title got some attention from the Cajun.

"Que c'est comme, ne pas aimer [What it is like, not to love]," Gambit repeated as she wrote, her pen broke contact with paper. "Chere, why so, depressing," he tried not to chuckle.

"Maybe you think it's funny, but everybody else is doing their essay on Valentine's Day or first love, or something stupid," she shrugged, "at least mine has substance."

"Substance?" Gambit made a 'heh' noise, "Rogue, dat's a little, sad, don' you tink?"

"Why write a lie? There's no love for me? And Ah don't want it anyway," she looked over at him, surprising him with the statement. This conversation was getting a little too emotional and deep, in a depressing way. To him, her words were foolish; silly.

"I hardly tink dis is a good topic for a high school essay Chere," Gambit laughed quietly, looking around the room. Shaking her head, she simply just stared into his eyes. For the first time he couldn't catch any expression from her. And this worried him, "Y' don' love Remy?" His joke wasn't amusing her.

"No," she said. He laughed nervously, the cocky smile playing across his lips. This mood needed to be lightened up.

"Y' can't tell Remy y' don' love sittin 'ere goin over de most romantic language in de world wit 'm?" She didn't say anything for a moment. Mostly, the Southerner was trying to take the opportunity to think of a nasty remark, but it was too late. He had taken up the chance himself, for a Remy LeBeau remark, "see dis'll end up just de way y' want it." She raised an eyebrow.

"Whats that?" She almost kicked herself for indulging him. Uncomfortable, Rogue aimed her attention back to her writing. 'What a wannabe,' she thought.

Unexpectedly, he leaned over and whispered seductively into her ear, "Quit playin' games wit' me mon Southern Chere." His hand ran up her leg, caused her to heart to skip a beat. Her knee jumped, hitting the table from underneath.

Now standing up, she glared down at him, again with cheeks burning crimson. He tried not to laugh in a way, not expecting his flirting to end up this violent.

"Dieu, je vous déteste!"[God, I hate you!] She yelped.

"See mon petite, I am a good french tutor! Oui?" But Rogue wasn't amused; she stomped out of the kitchen. Remy jumped up to follow. "Aww, come on I was only foolin! Y' know dat," he called. "Rogue," he now stood in front of her, "just sit down 'n we'll finish." Reaching for her wrist she pulled it back out of reach from him.

"Don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry Ro—"

"You're the only one here Ah haven't been able ta even deal with yet! Why don't ya make an effort or something? Stop treatin' me like every other girl ya treat!" He was surprised, "Ah mean, what makes ya think a girl that can't touch is gonna find flirting.. and.. and" She stuttered a moment trying to think of how to explain her anger. ".. Inappropriate touchin' attracticve? Or funny? Or whatever the fuck it is that ya goin for?"

"So y' don' find m' attractive?"

"Ah can't even argue with you without ya goin of into your huge ass ego world!"

"Remy can't help de way he is. Besides, Remy doesn't get what your tryin t' say petite." He wasn't as naïve as he was pretending to be, and she knew it.

Forcing herself to lower her voice so she wouldn't yell, Rogue calmly hissed out the words, "then tell 'Remy', if that's all he can be, Ah can't stand him." She pushed past him, leaving the confused and staggered Cajun standing there.

"I think she's right Gumbo." The Cajun lifted his stare from the hall to where Logan stood in the kitchen doorway.

"I like her." It was a statement Logan wasn't really expecting, but figured regardless. "She likes me too…" Gambit walked past Wolverine, back into the kitchen.

"Sure buddy," Logan walked over to the fridge, "they all do." He was rolling his eyes.

"I tink she's scared..."

"I think you're nuts. Look, don't play with the situation Gumbo. You like women, we all do," he paused, "well, we all know you _especially_ do, but that one…" Looking toward the door Wolverine sighed lightly, shaking his head, "just leave that one alone."

"Y' doubting I have a chance wit 'er?"

"I'm doubting it would end up good," he took a beer from the fridge. "You're just going to hurt her," he took a swig, "and if you do that, I'm gonna have to hurt you."

"Perhaps you're right mon ami," Gambit sighed. He liked Rogue, but he liked a lot of girls. She was so different. At first, yeah, maybe the whole challenge was part of it, maybe, but now, he wasn't sure why, but if any of his flirtatious side showed, it was just to her. "Perhaps not..."

"Ease off, or you're going to push that girl to her limits. I know that one for sure."

"Yea, sure," Remy ended the conversation after hearing the sudden sounds off students racing down the hall. The last thing either had needed was a couple of students gossiping around about them "bonding".

'Maybe,' the Cajun pondered, 'maybe it is just the idea of overcoming a challenge.'

Deny all you want Remy LeBeau.


	8. What Lies in the Lair of LeBeau

**CHAPTER 8: What Lies in the Lair of LeBeau **

"Ah am _not_ getting blamed for this!" The Southerner ran alongside her roommate as they bolted down the hall towards the recreation room. "If ya'll didn't have ta be glued to the phone with Lance for so long, we wouldn't have ta be late... again!"

"It's like, not my fault. I lost track of time."

"That makes it your fault!"

"Well who said you had to like, wait for me?" Kitty knew the answer to that question; she was just too stubborn to admit it. Rogue

"Don't start," Rogue was getting out of breath, "if Ah don't show up with you, Ah'll get a lecture on why Ah should've known enough ta tell ya to get off the damn phone." The goth slowed down in front of the door with Kitty not a single step behind her. "You go in first," She whispered at the valley girl.

Making a small gulp Shadowcat pushed the door open, immediately gaining the attention of the room. It was obvious the two girls interrupted the lecture. Entering slowly, the two teen girls made their way to their normal spots. Rogue leaning up against the wall and Kitty in the chair by Jubilee.

"Nice of you to join us," Professor X smiled at the two girls, "Kitty, Rogue." Catching the disappointment in Xavier's voice, Rogue crossed her arms, looking away. Kitty just seemed to slouch down more in her chair, hoping to disappear. "As I was saying before you girls kindly decided to join us, Cerebro has detected a new mutant near Bayville. It is unclear the extent of individual's ability to control their powers, but one thing is for sure," the leader of the X-men scanned the room, "they are very strong."

"Are we going after them professor?" Asked Nightcrawler.

"Yes Kurt," he paused, "With time."

Scott chimed in, "what about Mistique and Magneto?"

"Well," Xavier began, "it is important to see what exactly, this mutant has come to Bayville for."

"Prof isn't suggesting we wait a long time," Wolverine intervened, "just be patient for a little."

"We don't want to scare her, or him," Kitty smiled, "away."

"Exactly Kitty. We don't even know if this mutant understands their situation." Professor Xavier skimmed the room with his gaze. "It is important to keep your eyes open at school, at work, or even when you're off the school grounds. Pay attention to your environment. We are here to help!" Nods of approval filled the room. "Also," the leader continued, "a guest will be staying with us for a brief time."

He directed his attention towards Gambit, "It will be a good friend of Mr. LeBeau, which makes him a friend of ours. Being that he already knows about mutants, he will be allowed to stay here for his trip. Now keep in mind," his expression became stern, "that does not excuse you to take advantage of the situation by mistreating your gifts." Bobby and Kurt crossed their arms in disappointment. "Gambit, is there anything you'd like to say?" The Cajun shrugged and stretched his arms out, letting them dangle on each side of his chair.

"Is he like, a mutant?" Kitty leaned forward glancing back at Remy.

"Non."

"Then how does he know about us? Mutants I mean?" She continued to pry. Just two questions and the Cajun was already feeling overwhelmed. Can't a guy have a visitor?

"There will be plenty of time for questions when our guest arrives. Acceptable questions," Professor X pointed out, "for now, everybody is dismissed." Obediently, the students exited the room, preparing to carry on with their normal activities. Of course, Rogue and Kitty weren't as lucky. They filed in the line along with their peers, only to hear a soft "Rogue? Kitty?" They cringed, turning to face the professor. This was their third meeting they were late to.

"Yes Professor?" The two replied together.

"The next time Ms. Pryde, you feel like having an extensive conversation with Mr. Alvers, I suggest you pay attention to your roommate tapping her watch." Kitty looked to her feet with a remorseful nod.

"Sorry."

"That's okay, you're excused." Rogue snickered, feeling the sense of victory. She mouthed the words 'I told you' as Kitty left the room (of course, not before sticking her tongue out at the Southerner)."Rogue," the goth snapped back to attention, "I suggest next time you want her off the phone, cutting the cord and yelling is not the appropriate solution."

"Sorry." She grumbled, exiting the room when the professor nodded that she may do so. She started down the corridor.

"I hope y' can forgive me Chere?" A soft but alluring Cajun accent sounded behind her.

Rogue looked to the ceiling, biting her lip in agitation before turning to look at him. "For what swamp-rat," she paused, "bein' such a womanizin' wannabe?" He breathed a small 'hmph' as the corner of his mouth turned upward.

The self-proclaimed heartthrob shook his head, "Oh petite, when m' copain [buddy] arrives, Remy won' be able t' spend as much time wit his tres belle Southern Chere." He pushed his lower lip out, presenting the goth with a pout. A captivating sparkle flickered in his eyes.

"That poor soul," shaking her head, Rogue turned around, heading back to her room.

"Tell Kitty dat dem curtains were a beautiful touch, but not Remy's style," he called to her. What was he talking about? She looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised as she walked. He continued his weird babble, "Just tell chanton that I fixed it, and thanks for the fabric!"

'What in the world,' the Southerner thought, quickly dismissing the statements.

Before she knew it, she was face down in her freshly washed pillow and sheets. Storm really knew how to bring out the scent of spring rain in laundry. She closed her eyes, deciding that a nap was beyond a great idea. Unfortunately, such a desire would not be met tonight. She heard commotion in their closet, followed by muffled growling. 'Is tonight destined to be weird', Rogue asked herself, sitting up. She flattened her hair and headed over to the walk-in closet.

"Kitty?" She knocked on the door. No answer. The Southerner pressed her cheek to the wood, listening more attentively. There was a sudden thud, causing her to jump back. The goth took the knob in her gloved hand, twisting it, she opened the door swiftly. To her relief, it was as initially expected, just Kitty Pryde. The valley girl was tangled up in a pile of clothing on the floor.

"What are ya doin on my side of the closet," Rogue snapped.

"I can't like, find those black pants that I bought at the mall two days ago!" She continued to plow through the clothing, creating a storm of mesh shirts and band tees. Coming up for air, Shadowcat moped as she spoke, "I can't find my red tank-top either!"

"Kitty," Rogue sighed, "get out of my closet. You wear so much pink and white, it makes my head spin. Apparently, it's fate."

"Lance and I?" She beamed.

The goth slapped her forehead, "It's fate that you're not wearing black and red."

"I have a date tonight," she climbed out of the sea of outfits. "I want to look different tonight." Rogue ventured back to her bed, laying down and rubbing her brow. "Do you like, know what I'm talking about?"

"Ah really don't care if you wanna impress your—"

"No! I mean, do you like, know what shirt and pair of pants I'm talking about?"

"Yes Kitty," Rogue exhaled noisily, "Ah've heard for the past two days how much Lance is going ta love it."

"Are you still grumpy because Gambit touched you?"

"No!" Rogue retorted, her voice thick with frustration.

"Oh Rogue," Kitty giggled, "He' just being Remy!"

"What kind of an excuse is that anyway? That's what everybody keeps sayin'! Why don't you people give me a real excuse? Like, he's questioning his sexuality, so he overdoes it," Kitty laughed as Rogue continued, "Or, he's a sex addict." Kitty blinked momentarily before bursting out into hysterical laughter.

"Whoa like, remind me to ask him if that's why," she said following her fit of giggles, "Though I doubt it with how many—"

"—unnecessary details," Rogue interrupted. She decided to change the subject, "See, you're already smilin'. Your stuff will show up eventually. It's probably in the wash, or accidently went to one of tha other girls' room. Ororo _did_ just do laundry."

"Well actually," the valley girl sat on her bed across from the Southerner, "Since we're on the topic of Gambit…"

'So much for changing the subject,' Rogue groan mentally.

"A long time ago, he burned holes in my curtains, which I might add, I totally like, love! He and Kurt thought it was hilarious. Well," She smiled mischievously, "I've decided that it was time for retribution!"

"Retribution?"

"Yeah! Like, total vengeance!"

"You? Vengeance?"

Shadowcat didn't seem to realize Rogue was seriously doubting her ability to do anything mean, to anybody. The valley girl didn't have a callous bone in her little mutant body. Her blue eyes glistened with excitement as she continued, "I totally got him! I like, took his favorite curtains and pasted pictures of guys in bikinis on them." She covered her mouth, giggling uncontrollably.

"That was your master plan," Rogue inquired with a raised eyebrow. It was, as expected, a mediocre to slightly below average scheme.

"But wait!" The valley girl continued, "I also managed to change all the names of the women in his little black book! Can you imagine him calling 'Marie' and calling her 'Mary'?" Kitty slapped her leg, falling backwards as she cackled.

"Kitty," Rogue started, "Why didn't you ask me to help you with this. You are so…" The brunette sat up to look at her friend, "…nice!" For some reason, what should have been a instantaneous recollection was very delayed. Gambit's stupid Cajun voice rattled in her brain, _'tell Chanton, thanks for the fabric…'_

"Rogue, what's wrong?" The valley girl noticed the Southerner's sudden change of mood.

"What are LeBeau's favorite colors?"

"Red and—" the valley girl blinked, "Red and black!"

"Red and black," Rogue shook her head.

"Dead man!"

The Southerner was shocked. She had never seen Kitty so upset before. "Maybe—"

"Oh my God, he is like, SO DEAD." Kitty went from zero to sixty, now so mad she looked like she may cry, "He knows I have a date with Lance!"

"Kitty," Rogue started, putting her own finger to her lips, "shh." She knew what was about to be said could possibly ignite World War III. "Remy sort of," she paused, "hinted something ta me tonight."

"What, exactly?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "He implied that you provided him with fabric for," Kitty's eyes grew wide, "curtains…"

"WHAT!" The young girl exploded.

"Listen ta me!" Rogue waved her arms, trying to bring Shadowcat down a notch, or twelve. "Instead of lettin' him know he got to you, turn his plans back on him. Triple turn the tables, he won't expect it." After a moment of silence, the valley girl turned to a waiting Rogue. A huge grin was spread across her face.

"Will you like, help me?"

Rogue couldn't help but also smirk.

* * *

There would have been silence, but the door creaked as the two girls poked their faces inside. Being convinced there was no sign of mutant life in the room, Kitty and Rogue welcomed themselves into a certain Cajun's bedroom. The door was closed quick and tightly behind the two.

"Where was it?" Rogue asked again, referring to the little black book that Kitty had in her hands earlier that day. It was one of the womanizer's prized possessions. Shadowcat flicked on the light, beckoning her hand in the direction of his desk.

"Oh no," She sighed, "it's not there anymore." She looked around the room quickly, "it was on there earlier!" Her wandering eyes stopped as she got a glimpse of the curtains on the thief's window. "Oh," she started, "I am going to kill him." Rogue curiously directed her attention where Kitty's resided. There they were, crappy looking curtains; black and red patches poorly sown together. They framed his window like an ugly trophy. "Just like, go through anything, everything! It has to be here."

"Alright alright, just relax," the goth tried to reassure her friend, not entirely certain herself if it was the truth.

"You don't understand," Kitty started, "He's sneaky!"

Rogue snorted and laughed.

"Rogue, I'm serious! He's a trained thief."

The Southerner rolled her eyes, tucking a piece of white hair behind her ear. She sat on his bed, getting a prominent whiff of Cajun spices, cigarettes, and cinnamon.

"Do you think it's gross that swamp rat smokes?"

"Does it like, matter?" Kitty paid little attention to the question and dug more fiercely into a drawer by his dresser. Rogue sighed, deciding to rummage through the drawer beside the bed.

"Pictures… letters from girls confessing their undying love… deck of cards… another deck of cards… another deck of cards…" Placing everything she took out beside her, on the bed, the goth scrunched her brow. "Book on," she opened it, flipped to a page then immediately closed it, "...Wow."

"What?" Simply tossing the book on the bed Rogue didn't even reply to the valley girl, she was too busy wishing she hadn't opened it.

Rogue continued her search, "cigarettes, what a surprise. Bag of gummy worms, yum! And oh here's what Ah knew Ah'd find." A stack of neatly piled playboy magazine's hid delicately in the back corner. Smirking, she couldn't help but laugh to herself, "of course." Leaving the rest of his stuff on the bed she made her way to one of his dressers. Rogue opened the middle drawer, digging through piles of shirts; messing the neat stacks. Closing the middle, the Southerner peering into the top and laughed.

"What?" Kitty stopped her poking around.

"All his underwear is silky." The two giggled together, and even more when Rogue held up a black pair with playing cards on them.

"Oh my god," the valley girl took a breath, "I like, remember those!" Rogue did a double take, raising an eyebrow. "Ew! Not like that! That's like, sick." The goth was surprised at how relieved she felt. "He got them for his birthday! It was great, you should've like, seen his face."

"Ah'll bet," Rogue said while placing them back and closing the drawer. Heading back to the bed to clean her mess, the pile of photos unexpectedly acquired the goth's interest. Without thinking, she placed a deck of cards in her pocket, eager to sweep the photos up in her gloved hands. It came as no surprise when the Southerner found herself looking at a majority of photos involving pretty females. The girls filled the photographs, hugging close the hunk that was Remy LeBeau, smiling wide. She flipped through them leisurely feeling a sudden pang of melancholy. Another and another; all girls, well, mostly. The bottom of the pile had the oldest dates. The majority of these photos were occupied by a gorgeous blonde with beautiful blue eyes and playful curls. The nature of these photos were different, more personal. The girl clung tightly to Remy, and often one was kissing the other's cheek. In other, he carried her wedding style; both of them smiling brilliantly. As the goth continued her nosey expedition she found a few photos dated three to four years before. He was different looking; Rogue couldn't help but smile. His obnoxious but alluring seductive smile hadn't fully developed, nor did that playful arrogant expression. She assumed his age to be around sixteen. He seemed oddly familiar.

"This is so," she whispered to herself, not wanting Kitty to hear. Picking up the last few pictures, Rogue became entranced. She traced the Cajun's jaw line with her finger, in thought, 'How is this so familiar?' Remy stood alongside a group of football players. And suddenly, a giant wave of understanding hit her. The jerseys radiantly sported the name _Caldecott Colts_. "Oh mah God," the words were thick with her accent, "Remy was the… he was… and Cody… the night…"

A shocked Kitty jumped to attention, "Rogue! What's wrong!"

"Ah can't," her mouth hung open in disbelief as she directed her gaze to Kitty, "he stopped the fight."

"What fight?" The valley girl was tucking the little black book she had been so desperately searching for into her pocket. Rogue's ridiculous expression prompted the brunette to shake her head, "never mind Rogue! We like, are out of time! We've been in here too long, let's just—"

"—No! Ah need ta figure this ou—" The two girls heard laughter, Remy's laughter! But it was too late; the door opened. The Cajun was looking over his shoulder, providing Rogue with the perfect opportunity to act; the goth shot up, pushing the drawer closed, picture still in hand but behind her back. Kitty's eyes widened as he turned to see the two staring back at him.

"Umm," he was nearly speechless, "Chanton?" But then the realization that Rogue had stepped foot in his room hit him. That was a lot more shocking, "Chere?" Her mouth was slightly ajar with surprise. Yup, it was clear-cut, Remy was the boy from the party. The boy that helped walk her home, the one that eww! Kissed her hand! She plopped back down on his bed, heart pounding fiercely, blinking at him in doubt.

"Remy, I can like, explain," Kitty stammered, "Really… we just… we just—"

"Wanted ta get her clothes back…" The Southerner was surprised that she could even speak. Especially since the boy that followed the Cajun into the room, was Cody.


	9. Marshmallows

**CHAPTER 9: Marshmallows**

"So you're lookin f'r Chanton's clothes in dat pile'a pictures petite?" The Cajun raised an eyebrow at the pile of photos on the bed beside the Southerner. For the first time in a long time she sat speechless, too many things happening in her mind at once. The valley girl immediately took notice.

"Well, can't blame us for like, looking also for her… her…" The Southerner glanced back finally analyzing that Kitty was covering for her too. "Her… missing…" Silence. Blinking. Thought.

"Glove!" Rogue seemed to regain her perception of the situation.

"But you're wearing both gloves," Cody obviously wasn't shy; his voice had deepened, an obvious sign of puberty. He too wore a grin, but not as cocky as the Cajun's (as if being as boastful and cocky as Remy LeBeau was possible). Looking from the Mississippi boy back to the smirking Gambit who by the way raised an eyebrow, the Southern girl's inner fire burned again.

"Oh, Ah'm only allowed to have one pair of gloves now?" She glared back at Remy who shrugged. "And, aren't you apparently a clothes thief?"

"Just a normal t'ief," he smirked. "Now why would Remy have dat glove?"

"Well, ya'll can't help but try 'n make my life miserable!" The Cajun set down the backpack he had slung over his shoulder.

"Aww ma Chere isn't still peeved over notre temps d'étude [our study time], is she?" He walked to her slowly; taunting her with his tone.

"Ughh! Ah can't stand you!"

"So," Cody spoke up again, "gloves are a big enough deal around here to break into somebody's room?" The Mississippi boy was now in the path of Rogue's death glare.

"Shut up, Cody!" The command slipped her mind for a moment, but as she returned her attention to the Cajun, his face reminded her that, she was not supposed to know who this guest was. Not yet at least.

"You're psychic?" Cody asked, as Rogue's eyes softened. She processed what she had done, still staring blankly at the Cajun's chest that was inches before her. 'I'm such an idiot', the only three words that were rushing through her brain.

"Yea petite," Her train of thought directed her gaze towards his dark sunglasses, "you a mind reader?" His tone was mostly sarcastic, but Rogue could tell he was sincerely concerned. How could she possibly know that? Unless she really was a mind reader.

"We got ta go," dropping the photograph on the black and red silk sheets, the Southerner seized Kitty's wrist. She pulled her along to the door, meeting the guest's eyes as she passed him. The goth felt her cheeks get warmer with embarrassment. 'Run', was all she could think, but didn't. Her heart was going a million miles an hour, and she was waiting to just wake up.

She didn't. Instead, she and Shadowcat urgently raced to the safety of their room.

- A FEW DAYS AND A LOT OF AVOIDING LATER-

The small fire crackled a little more as Tabitha accidentally dropped her marshmallow into it.

"Darn it. That's the last regular sized marshmallow!"

It was the first night warm enough for the students to sit outside and have a fire. The Southerner decided that a black sweatshirt was sufficient enough, despite the sudden heat burst earlier that day. It left no trace of snow, only damp grass. Only Tabitha and Rogue seemed interested in the small patio fire however. The Southerner sat across her friend with her knees in the chair, her chin resting on them. Boom Boom leaned over, getting as close the flames as possible without getting burned. For the first time in so long, they could both hear the crickets that chirped on the institute grounds. The stars above were also brilliant; crystal clear.

"Uh huh," Rogue's response to the blonde's cry was muffled; her face was buried against the fabric of her hoody sleeves. She wasn't hiding her eyes though, in fact, she was counting the stars. The two sat in silence for a moment or so, Tabitha occasionally grumbling about marshmallows.

"Are you okay," the younger girl finally asked.

"Ah'm fine," Rogue lied, "why?"

Boom-boom scooped up the large bag of mini marshmallows pushing them in Rogue's direction, "you haven't eaten a thing since supper. Actually, you didn't eat at diner." The goth pushed the bag away.

"Ah'm just savin' my appetite for the get together. Ororo's makin' her famous chocolate cake." The goth very well knew that it wasn't the reason, but hoped it would be enough to convince her comrade.

"No, something's wrong." Guess it wasn't. Boom Boom knew Rogue normally wouldn't pass up a good toasted marshmallow.

"What d' ya mean?" The Southerner readjusted her stare, focusing on Tabitha.

"Come on Rogue, I've known you for what, more than four months now? You're not acting like yourself."

"It's nothin', really." She was still waiting to wake up. Gambit couldn't have been that boy, could he? Well, if she liked it or not, he was in that picture. What would he think if Cody found out who she was? She was the girl that nearly killed him. She was the girl that put him into a coma for nearly a year. She felt something small pelt her in the forehead, and then again.

"Snap out of it!" Tabitha barked, mini-marshmallow in hand."Either you tell me what's wrong, or I'll pummel you to death with my attack marshmallows."

"Ah find no humor in this," pelt, "stop!" Yet another bounced off her pastel cheek, "fine!"

With a deep breath, she began to spin the story that she so often tried to forget. She told Tabitha about the night of the party, about the Caldecott High football players, how Remy broke up her fight. She learned that Rogue's crush was the first victim of her powers, almost like a sick science experiment; maybe a bad joke. Rogue told her friend how she moved to Bayville with Mistique hoping that people like Gambit and Cody were just the past. So much so that she nearly forgot about Gambit completely. Her tale ended with her attempt at revenge with Kitty a few nights prior; finding the photo, seeing Cody. And now she asked the questions that surfaced her thoughts:

"So what do Ah do? Lay low until he leaves?"

"Why not just tell him?" Boom Boom popped another marshmallow into her mouth. The bag was almost empty since they had been talking for nearly an hour about it.

"Oh yeah, that sounds fabulous," She mocked her friends suggestion, "Oh hey Cody, yeah, it's me, the girl ya kissed back in ninth grade, yeah the one that put you into a serious coma. Good to see you're alive, want to be best friends?"

"Well, when you say it like that..."

"And what about Remy?" Boom-boom stifled a laugh, immediately making herself serious again as Rogue glanced over. "What's funny?" Her tone was stern.

"Sorry, it's just. He kissed your hand, and you won't even let him save you in danger room sessions! I find that quite humorous."

"Ha ha, yeah," She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the soda she hid beneath her chair, "a real heartthrob that boy is."

"I know I've said this before but, maybe you should give Gambit a chance. He just wants to try going on a date with you. You know how many girls would give anything for that chance?"

"Anything? Give me a break!"

"It's Remy LeBeau girl!"

"What is wrong with you? Go out with him if ya like him so much!"

"He doesn't like me like that," Boom Boom winked, "Or I would!" Rogue felt appalled, fighting the 'ew' that sought to escape her mouth.

"Ah don't intend ta be a one date woman," she let out of sarcastic laugh, "just to be thrown inta the pile of pictures in his desk; a crossed name off a list. Success!" Boom-boom sighed. Remy wasn't paying her enough to convince Rogue to go out with him. Ok, it wasn't just for the money. She really did think that she should give him a chance. Remy is never rejected and when Rogue rejected him, he had no intention of giving up. That should mean something right? The Cajun seemed in a way, almost desperate when he asked her to help.

"Maybe you should just talk to Gambit about it."

"Dating?" The goth raised an eyebrow wondering why Boom-boom wouldn't understand that she didn't want to date him after what she had just said.

"No," she shook her head, "you being the girl from the party; Cody's old crush. You know, Cody being your old crush too."

"Ah don't know," she paused, "I just want this to blow over." She took a final sip from the can, tossing it into the nearby trash. Some more students exited the mansion via the sliding doors on the porch. Rogue and Boom Boom glanced over their shoulders, paying little attention.

"Bonsoir mes femmes [good evening my ladies]," everyone's favorite Cajun purred, approaching from the darkness. His guest trailed him. The two girls, mildly caught off guard, did little to acknowledge the two. Remy cleared his throat, "Don' be too excited to see us now!"

"What's up?" Tabitha smiled, poking at the fire.

"Jus' took a walk."

"What are you ladies up to?" Cody asked, peeking around his friend, hands in their desired pockets. Rogue had done everything she could to avoid the two, especially Cody, for the past three days.

"Eating half our weight in campfire goodies," the blonde giggled. "Well," she continued, "I am at least."

"Can we join you?" Asked a cheerful Remy. Rogue felt her stomach knot.

"Ah should," she sat up, pausing when Cody made eye contact with her, "go inside." She scratched the back of her neck as the four felt a sudden uncomfortable silence. "Bye." She hurried for the sliding door to the kitchen.

"Chere," Gambit started, but couldn't think of anything else to say. She was acting so weird lately. Usually she didn't hesitate to tell him to 'get away' or 'shut up', but for the past few days the Southerner hurried off any time he'd enter a room. The goth turned to him, making a shy wave while hurriedly opening the door. Just like that, she was gone. "What's going on wit' her," inquired the X-man.

"You're suddenly expecting her to like you?" laughed Tabitha.

Rogue, meanwhile in the kitchen, sat down at a table. She heaved a heavy sigh, wondering how long exactly this guest was going to stay. Should she even keep avoiding him? Until she sorted out her feelings, which may even be never, the girl decided to just let things be.

"Rogue," Ororo called from across the room. The Southerner whipped her head upward, looking to the teacher. "Could you call everybody inside while I check the recreation room?"

"In-in-inside?" she stammered in reply.

"Yes," the woman halted briefly in thought, "some people are outside, aren't they?"

'So much for that strategy', Rogue smiled, "Yeah, I'll go get them Storm."

As she approached the glass door, she peered out. Gambit was in the middle of telling a story; his arms and legs told it all. He could be so animated! Rogue smiled to herself, quickly shaking her head. Before she even gripped the handle, the Cajun caught sight of her. He seemingly paused for a moment, giving her a huge smile. He beckoned her outside with his hands.

"Rogue," called as the door slid open, "you decided to join us after all?"

"Actually, dessert is ready if ya'll are hungry."

"Starved!" Beamed the Mississippi boy while jumping back to his feet. Tabitha and Gambit did the same, heading towards the Southerner. She made way, allowing them to brush pass her. The blonde and the X-man passed her, but the guest moved more smoothly. He stopped right in front of her. He was staring at her! "You're going to sit next to me, right?" He winked.

'Oh no!' Her thoughts raced. A speechless Rogue couldn't seem to reply. Again, she felt her stomach knot and twist. What she didn't realize, was that a certain Cajun, upon hearing his friend, was thinking that very same thing.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my fic! I apologize for this chapter being a wee bit boring. All in all, this is a super revision of a story that I didn't end up finishing years ago. I'm hoping it is better than it was before and to hear from readers; getting feedback and ideas always helps me to finish chapters faster. Please leave me a review if you don't mind. Normally, I reply. Happy Friday!**

**- TrulyRogue**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – Your reaction humored me, and reassured me that this story isn't too predictable (at least I hope not). I also hope you enjoy this and future chapters! Thanks for the feedback!**


	10. Tell me Something I don't Know

**Chapter 10: Tell me something I **_**don't**_** know… already**

"She's already sitting next to me," Tabitha saved the day. "Right?" she asked, looking at her friend.

Rogue just nodded, heart nearly beating out of her chest.

"That's too bad." Remy's friend smiled, walking on towards the dining room. During the extent of his stay, Cody managed to gain a general understanding of the mansion, many of its students, and the layout. In fact, he had gained a lot of new friends. Not to mention a fan club of new female recruits. Remy swallowed the lump in his throat, still watching Rogue for a moment. The Southerner was too busy releasing a deep breath to notice him. He _did_ detect that though; crunching his brow briefly. He wondered if that was a sign of relief or nervousness.

Most everyone else had gathered in the dining room; a few students here and there still walking in from the hallway. The walls echoed with chatting and gossip. Remy didn't allow the brief period of discomfort affect him for too long. He slid beside his friend quickly, his ever-loving youth devotees at his feet. Well, not literally, but figuratively speaking. The "fan club" that Cody had developed branched off of the one that Remy LeBeau had acquired since his stay at the institute. Basically, the naïve new recruits swooned over any older males that were freshly through the institute doors; good personality and especially looks in check, of course.

Rogue, hopeful for a distant seat, hung her head in disappointment. The only available spots at the table were still close enough to the two boys to make her uncomfortable. She slid the furthest chair she could find from them out, claiming it. Fortunately, the two were too busy talking to the group of young females to pay much attention.

'Blinded by looks', the Southerner thought. The swooning fan club was a little too annoying for her to ignore. At least it was distracting enough to help her anxiety subside somewhat.

"So Rogue," A nearby Kitty smiled, "Like, have you decided to go on vacation with us yet?"

"What?" The goth who was busy eavesdropping turned to attention.

"The vacation?" Kitty raised an eyebrow, "in a couple of months?"

"Oh!" Rogue shook her head, "Ah don't think so. Going to a beach isn't exactly a friendly environment for somebody like…me."

A merry Nightcrawler suddenly appeared in the room, a cloud of grey smoke following him. The stack of plates in his hands was a little too high for comfort. Nevertheless, the blue X-man cheerfully passed the plates out, stopping when he got to his sister.

"Why so blue?"

"Shouldn't Ah be asking you that question?" The Southerner smiled, receiving a chuckle from Kurt in return.

"She doesn't want to go to Hawaii with us!" Kitty whinned.

"What?" Kurt frowned. "Well, why not? It's going to be so much fun! No danger room, no homework, no…"

"No thanks," Rogue sighed.

"You should at least consider—" The fuzzy teen was cut off by Spyke's booming voice.

"—Alright! Dessert is served!" His aunt trailed him, both carrying platters of chocolate cake and ice-cream.

The occasional get-togethers, such as this for example, Rogue surprisingly found enjoyably. Well, under "normal" circumstances that is. In this case, the assembled student body happened to include a certain individual, whom in which made her completely uneasy.

"So den Cody's mom says, why don' y' boys go sleep by de creek instead…" She found herself refocusing her attention to the boys.

"But I was like, Mom, Remy can't swim! She felt so bad afterwards she offered to pay for his swimming lessons," Cody and Remy laughed.

"Funny ting bout it is, I still can' swim dat well." The herd around them became giggling hyenas. It seemed to be a game of 'who can attract the most attention'.

"She's in her own world," Kitty said, poking Rogue.

"What?" The Southerner snapped back.

"Kurt has like, been asking you how big of a piece you want for like two minutes."

Rogue shrugged, "Ah don't know. Whatever size is fine." Shadowcat and Nightcrawler exchanged glances, both shaking their heads. They had noticed their friend staring off at the Cajun and Mississippi boy; gaining the wrong impression also.

As dessert was doled out, students were summoned back to their seats. It took about fifteen minutes, but the new recruits that had surrounded Gambit and Cody were now gossiping amongst themselves and friends. Rogue had been going back and forth between listening in on the cheesy jokes and stories the boys were narrating, and Kitty and Kurt's inexhaustible conversation concerning the upcoming vacation.

Thought had become too exhausting, and Rogue soon found that she hadn't really been listening to anyone anymore. The Southerner rested her cheek on the palm of her hand, forking around her cake. Part of her felt it wasn't that big of a deal, but most screamed 'it is!' She had already let in a select few people, something she'd never anticipated doing. But, the nightmares and feelings that resulted because of… _that night_. She swallowed, resting the fork on the edge of her plate. She was the only one in the room who still was on her first piece, let alone hadn't had a single bite. She glanced in their direction again, catching wind of the discussion.

Cody was serious, "So whatever happened to Belle?"

'Belle,' Rogue thought, 'who's Belle?'

Remy's expression was abruptly cheerless and distant, "it's complicated."

"Last I knew you both were engaged," Cody continued.

The Cajun flinched, "we'll talk about it ano'ter time homme."

His friend at last picked up the hint, "we don't have to," he swallowed the bite he was chewing, "I didn't—"

"Dere was just," Gambit took a deep breath, "an accident and—"He shook his head, "What about you and Jamie?"

'Jamie?' Rogue crunched her brow, 'Jamie Torrence? _That night_ Jamie?' Annoyance briefly gleamed in her eyes.

Cody made a 'heh' and replied, "It didn't work out." He spooned some more ice cream on his plate as he maintained the conversation, "seeing her after the year I was gone, well, my coma, it just," he paused, "meant the world to me." A wide-eyed Rogue nearly choked on air hearing the word 'coma'.

"You were in a coma!" Kitty chimed in on the two upon also hearing the word.

The two boys peered in their direction, Cody nodding. He didn't seem to be as enthused as he usually was when answering questions or telling stories. "Yeah, it lasted about a year." He leaned back in his chair, "it's not exactly the best thing; waking up and being a year older."

"How did it like, happen?"

"Chanton," Remy cut short the inquisiton. "Dat seems a bit personal don't it?" The valley girl blushed.

"It's okay," said Cody, but didn't breathe a word about the incident after. The two boys continued to eat in silence, almost awkwardly. Each had resurfaced an uncomfortable topic and didn't want to share any information with the other students. Rogue had assumed such.

"What happened to your accent?" The goth broke her silence, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" Cody practically choked on the cake and ice cream he was eating; shocked that she was speaking. Since he had been visiting the institute, the Southern girl had been very quiet, and he had barely even seen her; very mysterious. The question also shocked him.

"Your accent," she said again. "You're from the South aren't ya?"

He grinned, finally appearing to be his jovial self. "Well," he cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, "my girlfriend and I decided to go to school in Europe. We wanted to get away from Caldecott Country, you know, just start something new. So, we went! The teachers were real sticklers about perfect English though. They constantly nagged us about our pronunciation and such. Long story short, I've sort of reshaped my dialogue."

"Why petite," her eyes moved to the Cajun sitting beside Cody, "however did y' know dat?"

She paused for a moment, clearing her throat, "know what?"

He smirked playfully; she knew it was sarcasm. "About his 'accent'."

"Ah'm pretty sure you mentioned it before."

"I didn't."

"You said he was from Mississippi."

"Non, Remy has not talked to you about dis Chere."

She clenched her fists below the table in irritation, "Ah guess I heard it someplace swamp-rat." She smiled mockingly, finally picking up her fork and taking a bite of the cake.

Remy narrowed his eyes, staring silently in her direction. The two maintained eye contact. Was she actually annoying _him_ for once? What a wonderful feeling. She was so busy basking in it, she failed to ask herself 'why exactly', was her knowing anything about Cody even so important to Remy LeBeau?

"How did you guys meet anyway?" Asked Cody, he was uncomfortable with the intense staring contest.

"My first night here," said Rogue. But Remy, in chorus, spat the words, "At dat party," as if Cody knew what he was talking about. In that instant, he looked up and quickly became trapped again in her gaze.

"What did you say?" Her eyes grew wide.

Remy stuttered, "dat party, dat partyyyy, innnn, dat party in de," he paused, "in de kitchen."

Rogue's mouth was slightly ajar in shock.

"Dere was no _real_ party," he chuckled nervously, "Logan, Rogue, in the kitchen, close enough to a party right?" He shimmied to the left and right as if to be shaking maracas… awkwardly.

It was too late; she knew what he had really meant.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Things are starting to unravel for everybody's favorite Southern couple; of course, not without their world becoming a snarly mass of drama first. Alert: I'm a sucker for clichés, anticipate silly teenage romance and angst in the near future!**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – great to hear from you again! It's so hard for me to write about Rogue or Remy with other romantic figures, but for the sake of a more happy ending, I suck it up. I was thinking potentially a love octagon? Kidding! But, you're certainly on the right track with your thoughts ;) Thanks again for the feedback!**

**Treegona – Glad to hear it's not boring! I guess knowing the future detail of the story makes me restless to write the parts adding up to it. I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. For me, it was average. DeSchaduw is an original character I thought up when I formerly began writing this fic. She should be coming up in the next or following chapter; you'll be able to understand her powers and such over time. Although the X-men series provide a great degree of baddies for me to utilize, I needed something unfamiliar so that I could keep the element of surprise more intact. I want followers to ask the same questions as Remy and Rogue, and be on the same page with unawareness to her abilities and intentions. In short, she came from my X-men infatuated brain, hahaha. Thanks again for the feedback!**


	11. Purple and Crimson

**CHAPTER 11: Purple and Crimson **

Skepticism and disbelief were splattered all over the Southerner's face. She couldn't tell if she was more furious or upset. After what had seemed like forever to Gambit, Rogue broke her stare.

"Did I ask something wrong?" Cody was concerned, watching as the goth stood up in silence and walked to the door. Gambit cursed himself, ignoring Cody as he slipped out of his seat and after her. She was marching ahead of him and had gotten much further down the hallway than he'd thought.

"Rogue," he called, but she didn't answer. "Rogue, please!" He ran down the corridor, gliding in her path. "Rogue, wait, I—"

"Leave me alone," she attempted to side-step him, only to have the Cajun block her way again.

"Rogue," she crossed her arms, turning to walk the other way again. He grabbed her arm, yanking slightly, "Would y' at least look at me when I'm talking to you?" He winced as she turned to face him, half expecting to get smacked and wholly counting on a death glare. "Rogue," he started again, but stopped, noticing Logan standing in a nearby doorway with an arched eyebrow. "Do y' mind?" Remy bark at the gruff man.

"Sure Gumbo," he turned to lock the door, "I'll leave you two alone." He took a swig of the beer in his hand, stalking in the direction toward the dining room. He spared them a glance over his bare shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. Gambit sighed feeling a little less frustrated and looked back towards the goth in front of him. She was now looking at her feet.

"I didn't want—"

"How long have you known, Remy?" Did she just call him Remy? Her voice was calm; laced with suspicion. He put a gloved finger beneath her chin, raising her head so that their eyes would meet. He opened his mouth to speak, but the grief in her emerald orbs put a lump in his throat. Now that guilt shot through him like a lightening bolt, it was suddenly much more difficult to sustain eye contact with the Southern belle.

"Mebbe," he halted briefly rubbing his arm, and choked out the next two words, "two months."

"Two months!" Rogue shook her head, rage overcoming her yet again. She stomped around him, praying to herself that he would just spontaneously combust or at least leave her alone.

"Rogue," he rushed after her again, "Chere, I didn'—"

"What," she spun around, catching the Cajun off guard, "you didn't want to _upset_ me?" She mocked him. He was speechless. "You didn't," she took a step towards him, and he took a step back, "You didn't think this was something Ah wanted to know about? Who are you! Who are you to make decisions for me?"

"But petite, Remy—"

"No!" She pulled at her hair, growling. She let go and heaved a deep breath, "It's not your place swamp-rat." Her voice became soft, "you should've told me."

"But—"

"Ah don't want to hear it! There's no good excuse!" Her Southern drawl solidified, evidence of her growing resentment.

"Let me finish!" The Cajun now snapped, surprising the goth for a moment. She crossed her arms again, looking away. "I was going t' tell you Chere, but I got to tinkin dat, you wouldn't feel comfortable around me anymore if I did."

"You're so selfish!"

"I'm selfish? I—I—What?" What was she talking about! He wasn't being malicious, he wasn't trying to upset her; he just wanted her to be happy at the institute and around him. He didn't want her to relive the night that he knew was absolute hell for her. It had to have been. What would it be like, to find out that you will never know what it's like to touch? He was shocked at her reaction. Although it was anticipated she'd still be upset, he was hopeful she would see he had kept such information to himself for good reason.

"You're so undependable!"

"What's dat supposed t' mean?" Gambit snapped back, he was sick of being called names. "Y' know what, it must not be such a big deal," fire blazed in her eyes, "it's not like you were gon' tell me. Were you Chere…"

"That's different."

"How," now he felt as though he had the upper hand. "How is it different Rogue?" She looked away, glaring through a wall, "You don' think I was affected by seeing m' best friend's life get sucked out of him? Y' don't think it was just a little bit terrifying t' think he was dead, and to have to run for help?"

She shook her head before turning the opposite direction a second time, this time hurriedly in step.

"Don't walk away from me," he was in stride with her, "I didn't mean to hurt y' Rog—"

"Ah don't believe you." Reaching the entrance hall, she turned to face the Cajun again. "You say you don't want to hurt me, you tell me how much you care about me all the time," she chuckled, "and yet, after knowing about this terrible, horrible, night in my past, you still have the nerve," he received her trademark glare, "ta bring back the one person in my life, that comes with all those memories, those feelings."

"I'm sorry Rogue," he hadn't thought of it that way; now he was truly touched by fault. "If you could just—"She sniffed. She was crying! This he never expected. "Mon Chere, I am so sorry, I am—"

"Don't touch me!" She jerked her shoulder out of his reach.

He moved his hand as to remove the stray white lock blocking her glassy emerald eyes, "Rogue, I—"

"Ah said don't touch me!" She swatted at his hand and it withdrew obediently. She spun around only to feel him seize her wrist and tug her back.

"Don't do what I know y' gon' do petite plea—"The blow to his jaw was enough to end his sentence for him. 'Well that was a long time coming,' he thought, rubbing furiously at his mouth. A tiny amount of blood began to ooze from the corner.

"Do you understand the words 'Don't touch me'?" She snorted, still infuriated, "Apparently not."

"Don't do it Rogue." He pleaded with her now, but just with his eyes.

"Do what?" She mumbled while stomping to the front door, opening it, and slamming it shut behind her. He winced at the extra loud thud.

"That," Gambit dabbed at the corner of his mouth with an ungloved fingertip. It was only then he realized how much it really did hurt, and that he was bleeding.

* * *

EARLIER THAT DAY; ACROSS TOWN

* * *

She held her breath, waiting to be called back into the office. It was so important, this job, she needed it. As nervous as she felt, she couldn't help but feel an 'at home' feeling since she'd arrived at Bayville.

"Miss," a young man appeared in the doorway reading off a piece of paper, "Shadii?" He quizzed, and she nodded with a smile. Dallas Shadii had been back and forth her whole life, from Holland to the United States, from the United States to Holland. Her mother, born Dutch, had raised her overseas. For most of her childhood, Dallas' father stayed in the U.S., not entirely getting along with her mother. But when the day came, the day he called and asked them to really be his family, as a whole, her mother jumped at the opportunity. It wasn't long before 'it didn't work out' and the girl found herself hauled back to her homeland. But Dallas had always wanted to live in America, and when she stepped foot on its soil two day prior, it had been quite some time since. It has only been a couple of days and this blissful feeling hasn't yet left her. Instead, she felt very anxious.

"That's me," she replied to the man.

"Please," he smirked in return, beckoning her into the office with his hand. She grabbed up her folders and briefcase, marching into the room behind him. She found herself seated in front of a large oak desk, the young man standing by the glass windows that peered out over the city. An older man was parked behind the desk comfortably, reading off of a document to himself.

She felt her heart thudding uncontrollably, 'this is it', she thought. Her violet eyes watched as the older man's expression changed here and there. After a minute or two, he spoke.

"I'm sorry Miss Shadii," he lifted his eyes from the paper, "but unfortunately, there aren't any available positions for you." Her brow creased in response. What was he talking about? They were advertising for a computer software engineer _and_ a computer programmer.

"Oh," she started, "do you mean, you've filled your positions as senior computer software engineer and programmer?"

"Those positions haven't been available for quite some time, I'm afraid," He was lying. Her heart wasn't beating fast anymore; she began to grow annoyed.

Dallas still managed to smile, "I'm sorry but, in the morning paper, these jobs were listed." The two men looked at one another. "If it's my experience level, I can assure you to the utmost that I am very accomplished in my abilities to—"

"We have checked out your references," the younger one spoke up, still gazing out the window, "they've valued your skills highly. But really Miss Shadii, we just," he paused, turning around, "We can't hire you, I'm sorry."

'If I don't get this job, I can't afford to stay here', her brain was screaming at her. "Please," she heaved another breath, "If you would just reconsider I—"

"—it was a pleasure to meet you," the old man held out his hand as he leaned over the aged desk. Her violet eyes stared blankly at it as she shook her head.

"I'm afraid I don't understand why—"The young woman felt a sudden rush of anger. Out of nowhere a picture on the man's desk slapped face down. The noise startled all three of them, snapping Dallas back to a calm state. She smoothed her hair with a smile, watching the young man walk to the desk and set the photo upright. In that moment, the Dutch girl found herself studying it; the older and younger man stood in fishing gear with one another on a boat. 'Father and son', she thought, putting together the resemblance.

"Bud," the father shifted in his chair uncomfortably, "do explain to the young lady the circumstances."

He nodded, looking back to her, "It's not so much a matter of why, but more a matter of," he paused, "what."

Her eyes narrowed, "oh, so you're saying because I'm a mutant, I can't work here."

"This is a family run business ma'am," started the father again, looking back to his son, "we try to reflect our personal values in our company values. We want the public to know that their information is safe in the hands of Thomas and Thomas Central Processing."

"So," she mocked, "mutants compromise private information now?"

"Not exactly," the son chuckled, "but really, we just can't be supportive of the mutant/human movement at this time. There's too much at stake. Safety, privacy," he paused again, "normality!" The final word hit her hard. The mutant movement hadn't truly begun in Holland, as most individuals in Europe with such abilities kept them hidden from society. She was used to anti-mutantism, but it was supposed to be different here…at least, changing! Not to mention, it wasn't fair!

"That seems so," she mused over a word, "ignorant."

The son slammed a fist on the table in front of her, "Listen freak—"

Freak? Did he just call her a freak? The bliss that had been keeping her afloat since she'd arrived quickly melted away.

"—Bud!" The dad snapped, clearing his throat, "that's enough. We're not trying to offend you Miss Shadii, we just can't offer you a position at this time."

"But thanks for considering us," Bud, still too close for comfort, smiled tauntingly. Dallas glared for a moment before allowing her eyes to soften. With a smile that gave the father, Mr. Thomas the creeps, she nodded.

"Thank you gentlemen" the Dutch girl stood up, heading for the door. Placing her hand on the knob she bowed her head in their direction, "have a _lovely_ afternoon." Making her way to the elevator, the young woman hissed the words, "you'll regret this," before slapping the 'down' button.

* * *

HOURS LATER, IN BAYVILLE

* * *

Rogue kicked away one of the stones in the street. She watched as it tumbled violently into the curb. Her bare hands were tucked into her sweatshirt pockets as she strolled along. Even though a decent amount of time had passed, the Southerner was dreading her return to the institute; she was procrastinating. More than anything, she found herself concerned with how everybody would treat her. Would they agree with Gambit? Did she overreact? She didn't think so! And since when did she care what people felt about her?

She sighed in thought, 'I don't understand anybody around here.' For the first time, she imagined that her stay at the Xavier Institute was a complete mistake. None of this would have ever happened. Would she have to face Cody? 'God I hope he's gone when I get back', but she knew he wouldn't be. The thought of Gambit infuriated her. Just when she was being to agree with Kitty and the other students, that Remy was a decent person, he goes and does something like this.

She stepped back up onto the curb to the sidewalk, still walking along. Rogue found herself passing by a hushed Bayville High School. She never thought she'd be so happy to see this place. It would be a sufficient distraction for a short time. The wind played with the rim of her skirt as she ambled towards the large brick building. The air was beginning to get chilly, and she was surprised it hadn't felt that way earlier. It was nice to be out and about late like this; it was so quiet. She wandered aimlessly, still pondering to herself about her predicament.

It was the hoarse screech that snapped her back to reality. Her heart was hammering beneath her breast, 'what was that!' her brain shrieked as she stood wide-eyed. All of a sudden the pacifying darkness was menacing; friendless. The scream was hair-raising, literally; her skin was prickled with goose-bumps. A lot of students cut through the school grounds to get home from the city, but it was way too late for something like that. Wasn't it? With a gulp, the Southerner headed in the direction from which she was sure the noise came. Something that was always emphasized during danger room was working together, and never approaching a situation alone if you didn't have to. Should she be acting this way? It didn't matter, her head told her to wait, but her heart was too concerned with somebody potentially being in serious trouble. Her feet made swift and silent strides, despite her thoughts. As she drew nearer to the back of the school, she hugged tight against the wall. If perchance there was somebody bad out there, she certainly didn't want to be caught off guard. Peeking around the corner, the X-woman saw—nothing!

'What in the world,' she thought, her eyes frantically searching the football field. It took her a minute, but she realized the turf's lights were turned on. 'That's weird.' Her heart was still racing. The light was even more eerie than the dark, but she still made her way towards the bleachers. The goth walked silently, unsure if maybe she was just hearing things. But why were these lights on? She studied the stands on the opposite side of the field, noting no other abnormalities. She stopped, biting her lip. 'Maybe I should just go back,' she mulled. She was beneath the bleachers now. Rogue looked up and around at the seats above her. There was no sign of life. She stood motionless for nearly a minute, hoping to hear anything—she didn't.

The Southerner decided it was best to consider somebody must had been goofing around, or even playing a joke. It was surely better than assuming she was hearing things or crazy. As she whirled around en route to the school for a second time, a glimmer of light snatched her attention. The object was poking out from a small pile of wrappers in the dirt. Rogue approached the item, jabbing at the trash that was scattered atop it, with her boot.

"Hmm," she crumpled her brow, giving a small squint. "What is that?" She whispered to herself. Unable to contain her curiosity, she reached for it, picking it up gently. It was a knife; an awkward looking little dagger. It was serrated in a strange way, with frightening and curvy edges.

A breeze brushed her shoulders and with it, a breath of what sounded like soft giggles. Rogue spun around scanning the area. "Who's there?" She said, not wanting whoever it was to think they were intimidating her. "Show yourself," her voice was louder this time. There was no reply. She was facing the field, and to her right, down the corridor beneath the bleachers was a flickering light. The Southerner got a glimpse of it from the corner of her eye; she turned her head to face it. "Hello?" She called again, but once more there was no answer. She swallowed nervously, staggering slowly down the walkway. The sputtering light was attached to the side of a small building on the other side of the stands she was beneath. "Ah just want to make sure everything's okay," she spoke again, cautiously reading her environment.

She was about ten feet from the flickering lamp when it abruptly stopped; the field lights shut off concurrently. Sudden darkness overwhelmed the X-woman. Her eyes frantically searched the darkness, hoping to adjust to the change quickly. The fifteen seconds it took for her pupils to dilate felt like an eternity. With a deep breath, she pressed on towards the small building. When she reached the door beneath the once flickering on-and-off lamp, her heart palpitated faster. The Southerner's hand enveloped the door knob.

The sound of sirens unexpectedly emitted sound in the distance. The knob slipped from her grasp as she spun around. Before she could contemplate the distant noise, she noticed something in the bushes beside her. The goth quickly pushed the brush aside, jumping back at the sight. It was a boy; a mutilated face stared back vacantly. She looked down at her hand, realizing the knife she had seized was stained on the sides with blood. Rogue dropped it, alarmed. The faint sirens rang clearer and clearer. She knelt down quickly, feeling for a pulse. There was none.

"Oh my God," was all that escaped her lips as she jumped away from the horrific mess that was once a human being. Everything had been happening so fast! She could see red and blue lights emanating from the other side of the building. The night air had been freezing at this point, the wind picking up indifferently. As the gentle wind sweep past her skin, she was certain to hear it whisper the word 'run'. Without thought, she did.

Rogue bolted across the football field, heading for a small back-wooded path that many students took, on the other side. Her feet carried her as far as they could, but her lungs pleaded for a break. The goth stopped, still in the wooded area. Her gloved hand gripped a nearby tree branch as her chest heaved up and down. It felt like forever, trying to catch her breath. Before she could, the sensation of nausea overwhelmed her. The Southerner became violently sick; she found herself on her knees trying to recuperate. When her stomach and gag reflex calmed, she sat back against the brush, wiping her mouth. She was used to memories and images she didn't want floating around in her head (considering she absorbs some pretty crazy people), but this was her own mind. The prospect of such a picture never going away horrified her. She had seen a lot of things in her life, but murder? She was stained with the victim's blood, and shakily removed the glove from her hand. She was still in shock, tucking the small article of clothing away in her pocket. Rogue got to her feet, pacing through the trees until she ended up in a side yard. The Southerner hurriedly walked to the street, looking over her shoulder. She walked a mile or so, finding a street-side bench to take a seat at; she wanted to calm her nerves. Her thoughts still raced, but she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the silence. Minutes passed.

"Chere?" A warm accent purred in her ear. The normal playful tone was absent; Remy's voice was apologetic. He slipped next to her when she didn't respond. "Look, I know y' gon chew me out for chasing you down. But—"The Cajun paused, noticing Rogue's shaky hands. Was she really _that_ upset with him? "Rogue, are you alri—"before he knew it, the X-woman was fit snug against him, her face buried in his chest. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face near her hair. "What's wrong?" He breathed softly.

Rogue's only response was silent weeping.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING

* * *

She stretched her arms out glancing over at the clock that read 12:31 am. She was surprised to have not actually had nightmares during her sleep. She closed her eyes for a moment or two, wondering for the first time since she got home, if her encounter with Cody was going to be problematic or not. With a sigh, she stood up, stretching. Maybe she had better talk to the professor after a late breakfast about the night before? She brushed out her tangled hair, throwing on some clothes for the day. The Southerner quietly entered the hallway, not acknowledging Amara and Rahne as they walked by. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drew her in the direction of the kitchen. She pushed her way through the door; Kitty sat on the counter while Jean, Cody, and Remy occupied the table.

"Mornin' Stripes," Logan made a small smile, trailing in behind her. Rogue was busy frowning in the direction of the small crowd. She was remembering another horror now; crying on Remy LeBeau. He has only asked her 'what's wrong' and she burst into an embarrassing fit of tears. She was glad the Cajun didn't ask any more questions. But she was still mad at herself; why did she have to pick Gambit to cry on? Why couldn't it have been a tree? Or a stranger?

The group was laughing quite a bit. Rogue became slightly paranoid, wondering if the cocky swam-rat had boasted at his success; Rogue allowing him to hold her close. She narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything, sarcastic.

"Stripes?" Wolverine waved his hand in front of her face.

"What?" her train of thought crashed.

"Are you okay," the gruff man asked, sipping his coffee.

"Ah'm fine Logan," she smiled, "thanks." Her attention returned to the table, where Kitty was waving for her to join them. The goth decided to take a seat. Jean and Cody continued to converse over whatever it was they had been talking about.

"Hey petite," Remy smiled; Rogue was waiting for the wise crack. She stared blankly in return; he scrunched his forehead, and went back to eating his lunch. Cody, who was sitting next to the thief, gave the Southerner a quick look, immediately refocusing on Jean. His face turned a slight shade of red. Rogue upon making the eye contact, looked down at the empty table in front of her.

'And the award for most awkward breakfast/lunch ever goes to this one,' she thought, smiling slightly to herself. The previous day's happenings darted through her mind again.

"Remy," she started, surprising the man with her soft tone, "Ah wanted to say thank you for—"

"Oh," he interrupted, swallowing the bite that was in his mouth. He shook his head, "don' worry about it." He smirked, "Okay?"

Rogue smiled in return, wondering for a moment if it was the first civil exchange of grins they'd ever had or not. She got up, approaching the counter. From where she was, she couldn't hear the doorbell ring.

"I got it," said Logan to a confused crowd of students. Sometimes he forgot how remarkable hearing was. He had just finished cleaning his coffee cup when the ding-dong coursed through his ears. Tossing the dish rag aside he hiked out the door; classical charming mood of grunting and growling, in check. The doorbell rang again.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everybody again for the feedback. I have received some inquisitions regarding the reviews and characters of the story. This story was originally started back in 2004; I never finished it. Upon being appalled at my grammar, I decided to revise and re-launch this story. So, I deleted the chapters, re-did them from previously saved copies, and have re-launched them. I intend on finishing it this time around. I hope that clears up any misconceptions. Thanks! I wonder who's at the door.**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – Glad you're enjoying the awkward love triangle! It angers some people, hahaha. Your story sounds super interesting! I'm definitely going to check it out! Expecta review! Thanks for the feedback!**

**Lady Firewing – So happy to see such enthusiasm regarding the chaos I've implemented! In my author's note I addressed the reasons for the number of reviews. In short, they are from when I initially began this story (back in 2004!). I deleted the chapters and re-wrote it using the saved versions of the 2004 chapters. I wanted to improve the quality and actually finish it this time around. Not to mention, my vocabulary and grammar have improved substantially =) yay! Thanks for the review!**

**Treegona – You can speak fluent Dutch! VERY cool. I will apologize ahead of time for any mis-interpreted phrases that go published. I often utilize translation websites to speak for Dallas. Remy isn't so difficult since I can speak some French. Her name does reflect her powers. She can manipulate her own shadow. However, it doesn't go without complication – as you will discover if you decide to keep reading the story. Thanks again so much for the feedback!**


	12. De Schaduw

**CHAPTER 12: De Schaduw **

**(The Shadow)**

Rogue grabbed up an apple, heading out of the kitchen when Logan left. Crossing the hallway to the recreation room, she fit herself to the usual windowsill. The book she had been reading for the past week waited there for her, unbothered. From her view, the Southerner made out a lot of her fellow students caught up in a competitive afternoon ball game. Kurt and Bobby were skimming aimlessly through the television channels. As Rogue observed her surroundings, her fingers glided through the pages, eventually finding the bookmark. She took a bite from the fruit she'd been carrying.

"In other news, recent Bayville High graduate Bud Thomas, was discovered late last night, _murdered_," the newscaster coursed through Rogue's ears. Her heart skipped a beat, "the victim was brutally mutilated with what authorities say was a unique combat knife…"

"Wow!" Kurt leaned towards the television, "this happened at school!"

"…also brutally beaten, investigators suggest that it is still unclear if the young man had time to fight back…"

"Do you think they'll cancel school on Monday because of this?" Asked Bobby

"Shh," Rogue interrupted, slipping beside the two boys on the couch. Gambit and Cody entered the room, unaware of what was capturing their peers' attention.

"Hey!" Bobby snapped as Rogue snatched away the remote, turning up the volume.

An investigator was now speaking into the microphone, his voice was all Rogue could really hear, "…there are no suspects thus far in our case. We are obviously _still_ in the process of gathering evidence and examining the crime scene. We assure the public however, that the Bayville Police Department is putting in the greatest amount of effort. We want to deliver justice quickly and effectively. This tragic event is—"

The television turned off. "Hey!" The three mutants on the couch shouted in union; they didn't realize it was Ororo whom had pressed the 'off' switch on the actual TV itself.

"Had you been listening last night," she began, "you would know you were meant to be at training this morning with Scott."

"But we went to school with that guy!" Bobby cried.

Storm hadn't been paying attention to the news story she'd cut short. But the look on her face implied it wasn't as important as the danger room. Rogue knew if they truly wanted to plead their case, the X-woman would hear them out, likely understanding; however, Rogue didn't _want_ to talk about this. Not yet, anyway. What would people think if they found out she had been there last night? Seen this? And didn't breathe a word of it?

"Rogue," Storm's tone was concerned, "are you alright?" The Southerner was very pale, looking sick. The reminder of the events that had previously transpired put her stomach into knots; she was very nauseous. Bobby and Kurt had taken the opportunity to slip away in silence; hurriedly scampering to their rooms to change for training. Rogue began to sway slightly, putting her gloved hand to her temple.

Gambit, who had been silently observing the small scene, suddenly intervened. "She seemed fine a minute ago."

"Ah, feel a little faint."

"We had better get y' to the sick bay, eh?" The Cajun, genuinely concerned, approached the goth.

"No, Ah'm fine, really—"

"Chere, let me take y'." Gambit was now starring down at her; her eyes were closed, and she was still rubbing at her head. Storm nodded at Remy, silently indicating to do just that.

"Rogue," her voice was kind, "let Gambit take you to the sick bay. Hank will check to make sure you're not falling ail." Gambit wouldn't allow her to object, he gently wrapped his hand around the wrist that dangled by her side.

"Come on," he tugged her along tenderly. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him to let her go, but she really _did_ feel as though she may pass out. Images from last night flooded her brain; the gory face of Bud Thomas captured her mind.

They entered the hallway, not getting down it too far when she tugged free of the X-man's grip. "Ah'm gonna be sick," she moaned, pushing into the nearby girl's restroom. Both were thankful of its proximity.

The Cajun leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He was pleased that rogue allowed him to lead her as far as she did. He felt it a sure thing she wouldn't want anything to do with him after finding out he kept such a secret from her, the night before. But, since he'd found her near Bayville Park…he trailed off in thought…

_It was strange to see her so upset last night; I thought for sure she'd bite my head off when I tracked her down._ He frowned,_ Gambit, you're smarter than this. You know that girl be keeping something from you. There ain't no way, no how, she'd be cryin' on you over something you did. If she were going to cry about it, she'd have done it already or walked away again. Either way,_ he sighed_, that girl would never cry in public. Not unless she really needed to._

His train of thought crashed, hearing the violent ralphing of the Southern belle. His face jumbled in disgust. _Ahhh,_ he shook his head and smirked, _the pleasantries of the human body._ Logan's scratchy voice rounded the corner, gaining Gambit's gaze.

* * *

WHILE THE EVENTS OF THE RECREATION ROOM EMERGED, LOGAN WAS ANSWERING THE DOOR

* * *

Wolverine passed the recreation room, noting Bobby and Kurt arguing over what to watch on the television. The doorbell chimed for a second time, resulting in a growl from the gruff man. _Have people no sense of patience_, he thought_, jeez_.

The bad-tempered man muttered something under his breath as he unlocked the large oak door and opened it.

"Yeah?" He spat. He suddenly wished he'd been a bit more welcoming, seeing a young girl, suitcase in hand blinking at him.

"I was, I was," she stuttered, not expecting to have been barked at, "looking for Professor Charles Xavier?"

"Oh," Logan's tone changed, "I'm sorry darlin', come on in." The young girl smiled brightly, breaching the doorway. She sat her suitcase beside her, awing at the large entrance hall of the mansion. "Let me take that," Wolverine said, scooping up the luggage.

"You don't have to," but he had already. She smiled, "thanks…"

"Logan." He put his hand out.

She accepted with another toothy smile, "Dallas."

"Dallas," he repeated, "well, I'll take you to see the Professor. Follow me." Logan's eyes briefly traveled up and down the young girl as they walked, he's hoped she didn't notice – not wanting her to think he was creepy or anything. She was a beautiful young lady, with waist length black curls. Mild traces of violet locks were throughout her hair, accenting her strangely violet colored eyes. These were a dead giveaway; she was a mutant. "What brings you to our school?" Wolverine made some small talk.

"I've decided to move to Bayville, and," she paused, "and well, I need to find someplace where I'm not hated, or feared…"

Logan chuckled softly, "Darlin', don't we all." They turned the corner, heading down another corridor. A low growl slipped past Wolverine's lips, noticing Gambit leaning against the wall near the girl's restroom. Remy looked surprised at the sight of the girl, but gave them both a smug smile as they approached.

"Hey dere," The Cajun beamed, only inciting more growling from the grumpy man.

"I don't think you're meant to be creepin' around girls bathrooms, are you _Gumbo_?" Wolverine grumbled.

Remy snickered, "you're one t' talk, eh mon ami?" He nodded in Dallas' direction. She only giggled in reply.

Logan increased his pace, the young girl tagging along. When they had passed Gambit, he slowed back down. He wasn't in the mood for sarcasm today. Was he ever? They stopped near large double doors. He knocked, poking his head in, "Charles?"

"Logan," Professor Xavier smiled, "what can I do for you?"

"Seems to me," he pushed the door open the rest of the way, revealing the young woman, "it's her that needs somethin'."

"Oh," Professor X smiled, "do come in."

"Good luck miss," Wolverine set her bag down inside.

"Thank you Logan," Dallas smiled in reply; she waved as he closed the doors behind himself.

"Dallas," Professor Xavier's electric chair buzzed around his desk as she approached, "it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person." She took a seat beside him, making herself comfortable.

"Professor Xavier," she cleared her throat nervously, "I was hopeful that—"

"You know as well as I do that you've been welcomed here since I first invited you." She looked down with a small laugh, turning a slight shade of pink sheepishly.

"That was a long time ago…" she paused, "I don't want to be a burden."

"Six years is quite a long time indeed."

"I wasn't ready then."

"And you are now?"

"Yes," she lied.

Professor X smiled, "you've grown up, I bet your parents are proud."

Her voice became hushed, "I don't speak to them anymore." Violet eyes stared a hole in the floor, "things have," she bit her lip, "changed, Professor."

Not wanting to pry, the leader of the x-men nodded, "Well, for now, you may stay in the guest room in the third wing. I will call for Ororo to show you around. If you need anything, feel free to ask me. Otherwise, we will meet again later on tonight to review your schedule."

"Schedule?" She queried.

"If you will be staying at the institute, then you will be enrolled in our sessions." His smile was kind, "I am certain you will find them quite interesting."

"I was planning on finding work," She chewed her lip.

"Don't worry; many of our lectures and sessions are in the evenings. They are very flexible. Things function a bit differently at our school."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Professor X smiled in return before concentrating on calling to Storm.

* * *

Rogue wasn't nauseous anymore. She had tossed her cookies until it hurt, hours before, and was sure now that there was nothing left to throw up anyway. Her stomach _still_ hurt nonetheless, as did her head. She was curled up in her bed, embracing the darkness as she peered out her balcony window at the night. The door was cracked just a bit to allow the fresh air to enter.

A soft knock came from her door. "Chere?" Remy's voice purred.

Rogue groaned to herself before replying, "What Gambit?"

"Can I come in?"

She didn't reply. He opened the door anyway. He closed the door behind himself; she heard his footsteps approach her.

"Ah didn't say you could come in here," she said coldly, curling more into a ball.

"I just wanted t' see how you was feelin'."

"Ah'm fine."

"Y' been up here all day," he stood above her, unsure if it was a good idea or not to sit on the edge of her bed. He decided against it. "Can I bring y' something to eat?"

"Gambit," she looked up, "Please just go away. Ah don't need anything from you."

He frowned down at her, "I'm just trying to help, Cherie."

"Well you're not," she scoffed, "if you wanted to be helpful, maybe you should've been honest in the first place."

"I told you I was sorry about dat!"

"Right," she sighed, sitting up.

"Rogue," against his better judgment, he invited himself to sit on the corner of her bed, "you need to forgive me. And if y' not ready, den please tell me what t' do to make it right again. I been goin' crazy tinkin about how upset y' were last night."

She swallowed heavily, looking at the floor sullenly.

"What is goin' on petite?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, crossing her arms. "Please, let me be alone."

"I just wan' to make sure we're still friends…"

"We _were_ in the first place?" She raised an eyebrow, almost regretting the statement. The Cajun didn't take her words too well. It felt like she punched him in the gut. His face told her he was hurt, but the expression quickly changed.

"When are you going t' stop dis façade, eh?"

"Excuse me?" She hissed.

Remy scuffed, "Last night," he paused, his tone more gentle, "I saw a side of you I never seen before. Seems t' me, you can't hate me all that much if you're gon' be expecting me t' soothe you."

"_Soothe_ me?" The Southerner laughed mockingly, "Swamp-rat, Ah'll never need you to _soothe_ me. Okay?"

He made a face, "So, cryin' in the middle of the street is normal for you?"

"There was no cryin'!" She lied, hopeful that she could play the denial card successfully.

The Cajun smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned in towards her. His voice was low, "I guess we were jus' _huggin'_ it out den, eh?" She narrowed her eyes, "all was forgiven last night… ma Cherie?"

Rogue mentally kicked herself. She knew letting her guard down was a horrible mistake. "Remy LeBeau," the use of his full name gained an astonished gaze, "Ah admit, last night was a horrible mess of… of… emotion! Ah was an emotional tornado. _But,_" she shook her head; her eyes serious, manner calm, "Ah just needed _somebody,_ do you understand that? _Not you_, anybody."

Her words cut him deep again. The thief had been spending a lot of time denying to himself the feelings that had developed for this girl. The more she pushed, the more he felt the pull. He was magnetized; not attracted to a _challenge_, per say, but just to her. He was drawn to her. Last night, Remy was certain that he was meant to calm her. Not just in that moment, but maybe, forever? The confused Cajun's brain was tickled with these thoughts. The feelings of hope and comfort that overwhelmed him the previous night, were consuming his thoughts. He'd been chewing on these deliberations, curious as to how such harmless flirting grew to be adoration and…perhaps even love. She reminded him so much so of how much she "couldn't stand him" that he was beginning to believe that she in fact, was trying to convince herself of such a thing.

"Alright Rogue," Gambit rose, walking to the door as he spoke, "what_ever _you say." As he exited the room, he paused to spare her a glance; their eyes met. "I didn't say anyting t' Cody. Not without your permission first. Let m' know when you're ready t' talk to me." The thief swallowed hard, closing the door as he exited.

_What is going on LeBeau, get it together!_ He was hurt. How foolish was it, to believe for a moment, that this girl felt for him. _She made it clear, she just needed anybody. I was a convenience. Fine, if she doesn't want to give me a shot – then – it's time for me to get back into the game._ But he was only mendacious to himself. The boy was spun in a web of uncertainty; Gambit for the first time in a long time, was feeling the faint pang of heartache.

Rogue's limbs suddenly felt heavy; she let her arms fall back down to her sides. With a deep sigh, the Southerner thought to herself. It was hard to be mad at anybody when she was so beside herself with what had happened to Bud Thomas. She hadn't known the boy personally, but had seen him at Bayville High the year before, when he was a senior. Normally, she'd have recognized him, but that night? No, not that night. The person that did this was seriously fucked up. It gave her the chills, reminding her of the movie **Goodfellas**; that part where the main character suggests 'they shot him in the face, so his mother couldn't give him an open casket funeral.'

Rogue shivered at the thought. She should talk to the professor about this. Why hadn't she in the first place! The girl decided to wait until the morning, when she felt just a little bit better.

After an hour or so of tossing and turning, the Southerner decided a nap was apparently _not_ an option. She huffed a white lock from her view, trudging to the kitchen. She marched past Remy LeBeau's open bedroom door, getting a glimpse of him shuffling some cards. He was in his uniform, likely returning or heading to a danger room session. The Cajun got a brief sight of Rogue as she scurried past, but said nothing.

_Unbelievable,_ the goth thought to herself,_ he thinks he's somethin'…_She entered the kitchen, nearly knocking over somebody she didn't recognize at all.

"Shit," the word slipped her lips as she caught the glass that fell from the stranger's hand. "Ah'm sorry!" Rogue continued, relieved to find the glass was empty – no mess.

"Don't worry about it," the girl replied quickly, snatching the glass back from the X-woman. The grab was a bit too forceful for Rogue's liking.

"Ah didn't see you," the Southerner continued, realizing the handful of students in the room were watching her now.

"Yeah," Dallas made a 'heh' noise as she looked Rogue in the eye now, "It's fine…_ really._"

"Rogue," Storm smiled brightly, "This is Dallas Shadii." Dallas put her hand out as the Southerner accepted it warily. "She has moved to Bayville, all the way from Holland! Her hopes are to eventually work with us…she wants to be a recruit." Something about the _new recruit_ sat unwell with Rogue. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but this girl didn't seem entirely pleased with the goth's arrival to the kitchen.

"It's nice to meet you," Rogue said with a smile.

"You too," the Dutch girl cocked her head to the side.

Something about the stare Rogue was getting made her squirm uncomfortable. "Well," she began again, pulling her hand away from the awkwardly long greeting, "Ah'm sure you'll love it here. Ah do."

Gambit ambled in from the dining room entrance, bo staff in hand, "Now I'm not one for rules, but, I'm pretty sure there's one that says no eatin' a half hour before training." Remy's eyes fell on the very young group of mutants at the kitchen table. "Go on now," he started, "get in uniform. Logan's not as gracious." His tone was unusually stern. His red and black eyes directed themselves to Rogue, Storm, and Dallas. "Forgive me for being so rude," he approached.

Ororo nodded to him, "Dallas, this is Remy. He is one of the older recruits, and as you can see," she chuckled, "Wolverine isn't the only one around here that has to enforce the rules."

"Dallas, eh?" The flirt quickly stole the new girl's hand, kissing it quickly, "enchanté." Rogue felt sliver of irritation from his greeting.

"Watch out for this one," she mumbled sarcastically.

"He's a charmer," Dallas giggled, putting her hand to her mouth.

The Cajun leaned in on his weapon, "you just visitin'?" He queried with a grin; Rogue's eyes narrowed in further annoyance. Remy became amused, aware of the Southerner's reaction. _So she doesn't care what I do, but doesn't like it when I talk to pretty girls either,_ he thought to himself with a sneer.

"She's interested in joining the X-men," Storm began, "for now, she'll be staying at the institute."

"I'm in the process of getting settled," her violet eyes twinkled at Remy LeBeau.

"Well," he looked at Rogue, "how about dat petite? You don' have to worry about bein' the new girl anymore." His words ate away at her patience like acid.

"It never bothered me." She snapped.

"How about I show y' around?" The thief raised a playful eyebrow to the new recruit. Rogue felt her stomach knot.

_What a jerk! What a lying, no good, womanizing asshole!_ Her brain was screaming now, _I can't believe he can sit around and tell me how he's concerned about my feelings. He acts like it was important to him, me being vulnerable around him._ She scoffed, her eyes becoming sad,_ seems to me that as soon as another new girl comes around, he drops me like a hot rock._

"How about you get your ass downstairs, where it belongs, Gumbo?" Wolverine was standing in the doorway.

"Oh," Gambit stood up straight now, bo staff at his side. "Nearly forgot. Another time chere." He bowed to Dallas with a smile, which she promptly returned. His eyes playfully caught Rogue's – she was still pretty teed off.

"Nice to see you again Logan," The girl called, playing with one of her wavy locks.

_Nice to see you again Logan_, Rogue mimicked the girl silently, moving her mouth to the words and rolling her eyes. _Give me a break_.

She realized Dallas was looking intently at her. The Southerner straightened, wondering if she saw her small ridicule. For the first time since his stay, Rogue was relieved to see Cody Robbins, sliding open the kitchen door leading to the back porch. It was enough to disturb the troubling silence that fell amongst the two girls when Gambit scurried off.

"Hey," he began, looking slightly troubled, "Rogue," she was surprised to hear him say her name, "Can I talk to you?" Her heart fell into her stomach.

_This is the witness?_ Dallas thought to herself, looking Rogue up and down. The goth's expression was one of distress. The 'new recruit' sneered to herself, _this is going to be too easy._

* * *

**A/N: A huge thank you again, to everyone who is reading my stories. I know I may have suggested this chapter would outline DeSchaduw's powers, but he next chapter will actually do so. I appreciate the feedback! Also, thank you for each and every add to the favorites list!**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – A bit belated, but there. I'm not one for especially gory scenes, so I hope it wasn't too descriptive or cliché! Loving your story, by the way. Keep the ROMY'ness going! Love love love it! Thanks for the review!**

**Treegona – I hope to get my updates out more quickly. This one took a little longer than anticipated. My problem is, I keep reading other stories, and neglect my own. If I require translations, I'll pass them in your direction! In the meantime, let me know if I say anything wrong, haha. I decided to keep DeSchaduw as one word – although in retrospect, it looks better (and is more accurate haha) as two. So is it okay to refer to the Netherlands as Holland? Just a little curious. I should've done my research before thinking up such a character, hahaha. Thanks so much for the feedback!**


	13. Wary Circumstances

**Chapter 13 **

**Part I: Wary Circumstances**

**Part II: Jealousy**

It was a warm night, and the moon lit up the grounds of the institute brilliantly. Rogue was gazing out across the yard anxiously, peering through one of the recreation room windows. She gently thrust the doors open, allowing the smell of spring night to enter. She was in high hopes it would replace the awkwardness that surrounded her.

"The night that I got here," Cody began, "You and Kitty were in Remy's room. Why?"

Rogue was caught off guard by this inquisition, "he played a little joke on Kitty is all. We wanted to get him back." He seemed to muse over her words, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Why?"

"It's just," he scratched the back of his neck, searching for the words to say; "I noticed a few photos you were going through. They were old."

Rogue swallowed the lump in her throat.

"There were some of me and Remy…"

"So…"

"Rogue," the Mississippi boy stepped towards her, "it got me thinkin' about the past. The things I've been through." She was silent, growing more uneasy. "There was this girl, back in junior high, she was a mutant," Rogue thought sure she was going to throw up again. "I kissed her."

"What does this have to do with me?" She said coldly.

"Don't play me," his voice was soft; hurt. "How long did you know?" She was shocked, it was déjà vu; this time however, _she_ was in Remy's shoes.

"Ah don't," she paused, "Ah don't know what you're talking about."

"Were you that girl?"

"Cody, Ah—"

"You have the same white streaks, the same eyes. I knew it. I knew it before I even thought about that night by looking through those pictures." Her heart began to race.

"Ah found out a couple of nights ago. When Remy—"

"Said he'd met you before at a _party_," his tone was low. "He lied, told me what he said was meant for somebody else."

Rogue shook her head, "Ah'm so sorry…Ah didn't know what to do…"

He walked to her, his eyes filled with sadness, "Rogue," he bit his lip, "I've been looking for you ever since the day I woke up." Her breath hitched, her heart still pounding. He wasn't mad? He didn't sound mad. His voice was shaky instead, "I didn't know what to say to you. And you just, keep avoiding me. After the other night," he nodded, "I knew it was you."

"Ah didn't know about my powers—"Her eyes welled with tears.

"Don't," he shook his head, taking one of her gloved hands. She nearly shied away, shocked at his action. "I don't need an explanation." He gave her a soft smile, if it was sincere, she didn't know. "Before I leave tomorrow, I want you to know that, it's okay." He touched her hair, "I'm okay."

Tears trickled down the Southerner's cheeks. A heaviness was lifted from her heart; the weight of the hurt she'd been sure she had caused this young boy was vanished. For years, she had dwelled. Hoping that Cody didn't think she'd done him wrong on purpose. Fear of being perceived as a murderer, a freak—haunted her. She was reminded of the panic she felt the night she'd absorbed him. His seemingly lifeless body sprawled out on Irene's porch – unfamiliar memories and thoughts overpowering her mind. Through the accident, she'd catch a glimpse here and there of what Cody thought. One haunted her – his phobia of mutants. Throughout the years, the notion of Cody hating her because she fulfilled his prejudice of mutants, dwelled inside her. She thought it certain the boy would feel she'd betray him, soaked up his life with pleasure, like getting a tan.

"Ah know how you felt about mutants," the word _felt_ breezed through her thoughts again. He had _felt_ that way. Something had to have changed, seeing that Remy was still his best friend, and he'd willingly surround himself with other mutants at Xavier's mansion.

The boy nodded, "I will admit, I didn't understand. But you helped me understand Rogue."

"You had to hate me—"

"I did for a minute. I wanted to see you because I wanted to ask you 'why', 'why did you put me and my family through this'.." he paused, "but I also saw Remy change." He swallowed hard.

"Remy was scared when I first witnessed his powers; he knew how my family felt about mutants." He looked to the floor now, "that's the real reason my parents sent me to school in Europe - to get away from Remy." He stepped back from her a little, "I couldn't understand."

"Why did you wait to tell me you knew?" She queried.

"Why weren't you going to tell me _at all?" _His tone became lower again, "I admit, it bothers me you'd keep this to yourself."

"Ah didn't know what to do—"

"Remy too." He shook his head.

"Gambit," the goth began, "Ah guess he was just thinking the same as me – maybe it's best to just leave old wounds unopened." There was a silence between the two again. The Southerner rubbed her arm, unsure of what she was feeling at this point.

"I just want you to know," he smiled softly again, "that it's good to see you're okay. You must've been as scared as I was; probably more. But, I'm okay. I understand that this wasn't something you had control of. I had to remind myself that, I only had to deal with a coma for a year," he looked to the floor, "you'll have to deal with yours…forever."

_Condition?_ The word circulated freely in her mind, _he doesn't understand me. He feels bad for me._ She shifted uncomfortably in front of him.

"I'm sorry Rogue."

* * *

LATER THAT NIGHT

* * *

Remy LeBeau worked the towel through his dripping hair, hoping to fluff out as much excess water as possible. Training that night had gone remarkably well, and the hot shower that followed – even more pleasant. He was clad in loose fitting sweat pants and a t-shirt now – ready to relax in front of the television in his bedroom.

"Remy," a sweet unfamiliar voice called cheerily. He turned around to see the new recruit he'd met earlier that evening.

"Why hello there," he smiled.

"I was wondering if that offer was still on the table," she queried.

His demon eyes scanned the hallway, it was empty and silent. "Well," he began, "I _was_ gon' watch some television, but," he smiled, "a tour sounds good t' me."

"So what _really_ brought y' to Bayville?" He asked as they began to walk along.

"Well," she sighed inwardly, "I guess, I was just ready to explore the fullest potential of my powers."

"This is the laundry room," he pointed to the left. She examined the small room quickly, more interested in conversing with the delicious looking Cajun.

"What brought _you_ to Bayville?" She asked.

Gambit smirked weakly, "I was in a little bit of trouble. I'm from the Big Easy," she raised her eyebrow curiously, "you know, New Orleans."

"I've always wanted to go!" her voice was excited.

"Yeah," he continued, "well, I jus' come from a bad place is all. Something happened and I just – wanted something better f' myself." His details were vague, implying to the Dutch girl that he didn't truly want to discuss this particular topic.

"So what can y' do petite?" He wanted to change the subject swiftly.

"Do?"

"Oui, y' know," he threw his hands up, wriggling his finger, "power-wise." She chuckled a moment as they continued to walk down the corridor.

"I have lots of powers," she winked; her suggestiveness (if that's what it was) caught him slightly off-guard, "I can do anything I suppose…" she paused, "If I actually wanted to."

"I don' think I follow" he pointed quickly to an upcoming elevator, "you can get to the sick bay the quickest by using this. But the stairs do just fine also."

She ignored the tip, pressing on the initial discussion, "see that vase?"

He glanced down the hallway, getting a glimpse of the hideous vase Hank had brought back from a trip to visit his mother. It was filled with fake daisies and awkward looking decorative sticks. "I do," he smiled.

"Watch," her expression grew relaxed as she continued to keep a watchful eye on his face. He looked past her, observing as a few flowers floated up and out of the arrangement. They bobbled, as if an invisible person were to be carrying them. The floating daisies were near to them now. He hesitantly reached his hand out – they were set carefully in his palm.

"Telekinetic?"

"No."

"Then how?" He scrunched his brow.

She smiled playfully, "watch again, watch _closely_." The Cajun felt the flowers picked up from his hand again – seeing nothing different. He concentrated now, searching the corridor the surrounded them. It was the shadow on the wall, waving to him mischievously, that trapped his interest. It finally clicked, the girl was a shadow manipulator.

"How about that," he chuckled. The shadow blew him a kiss before reaching for another flower; picking it apart as if it were asking 'he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.'

"He loves me," she grinned. Remy squinted his eyes with a playful smile of his own. "What about you Remy? They call you Gambit, don't they? What are your," she wriggled her fingers as he did before, "super powers."

"Observe," a card flicked seemingly out of nowhere, appearing in his hand. Dallas stepped back, startled momentarily as she observed it's glowing. It looked now as though it was on fire. The thief gave it a toss in a not-so-random room. The sudden explosion rattled the new recruit, forcing her to cringe intensely.

"That was," she sighed, "unique."

"You mean impressive?" he teased.

"Yes."

"Merci. But, we should probably be moving on quite quickly," he began to walk, hinting for her to follow quickly, "dat was Wolverine's room."

* * *

A deep sigh escaped her lips as her hand ran along the bright colored clothing. The goth still couldn't believe she had actually agreed on going shopping with Kitty, normally the thought of fashion hunting with the valley girl made Rogue gag. But in this particular case escaping the mansion to go shopping was an answer to her prayers.

One would have thought reconciliation with Cody Robbins before he returned to Mississippi would be a relief for the Southerner – it was just the opposite. After all this time, he didn't hate her, or fear her, he _felt bad _for her. The idea of this was somehow severely worse. Rogue didn't need anybody feeling bad for her, she was fine. She'd accepted her mutation a long time ago, and was looking forward to the day the Professor could successfully help her to gain total control.

Not to mention - for the past four days the new perky, popular, and positive Dallas Shadii, also known as DeSchaduw, was essentially driving the goth to the point of pure insanity. The Southerner stopped in front of a statuette modeling a pink sweater and purple skirt.

"Ughh," she scoffed in disgust, "people _wear_ this stuff?"

"Done!" a lively voice chimed from within the changing booth beside Rogue. "Well," the valley girl beamed, "what do you like, think?"

She studied Shadowcat, shaking her head, "you actually _want_ to wear that?" Kitty blew a lock of her brown hair from in front of her eyes.

"What's wrong with this one?" Her voice was weighed down in frustration.

"Too blue"

"Too blue!" The younger X-woman repeated in despair, "the last one was too red, the one before that was like, too striped, and the one before that was totally too glittery!" She crossed her arms, exasperated; Rogue was essentially refusing to cooperate in helping her to buy a new shirt. The valley girl stomped back into the changing room.

"Hey," Rogue sneered, "don't be mad at me. If ya'll wanted such an expert opinion, you shoud've asked Dallas to come."

"I like, totally don't understand _why_ you don't like her Rogue. She's really nice!"

"Don't like her?" The Southerner laughed mockingly, "She doesn't like _me_!" Her twang grew thick with her growing aggravation.

"Oh Rogue," Kitty retreated from the booth, "you're being paranoid."

"She's nice to everyone _but_ me." The two approached the cashier.

"Look on the bright side," Shadowcat rummaged around her change purse, retrieving a twenty dollar bill.

Rogue raised an eyebrow curiously, "bright side?"

"At least Gambit has barely like, bothered you at all in the past few days." The Southerner exhaled noisily, grunting as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," was the only thing she could bring herself to say.

* * *

As the week progressed, a heat-wave had hit the North East coast. If it weren't for the slight cool breeze, Bayville would be unbearable for Rogue to cope with. She thought sure she was doomed to be cooped up inside the mansion – far away from sunlight. The hot was too premature for any air-conditioning to be hooked up inside the mansion yet. For the first time in a long time, the Southerner peeled off the green mesh layer she'd often wore atop her mid-drift cami. Today, she sported a simple black tank-top, gloves, and jeans. Her toned tummy gazed out at the unfamiliar world, normally familiar with a layer of clothing. Her black converse sneakers scrapped across the cement as she walked along one of the Institute's sidewalks.

She continued to walk, glancing upward at the sound of soft humming. _Great_, the Southerner thought,_ here comes the best part of my day_.

"Good morning Rogue," Dallas forced a smile as she passed on by, immediately rolling her eyes as she left Rogue behind her. The goth scoffed, listening to the fading flip-flop noises of the new recruit's shoes. She turned the corner in which the Dutch girl had come from, picking up a basketball from the grass beside the walkway. She dribbled it slowly, effortlessly, walking around while mumbling to herself…

"Good morning Rogue," she mocked, "Ah'm so perfect, Ah'm so sweet, everybody loves me." The thought of Dallas Shadii made her gag. "Look at my perfect hair, see my beautiful purple highlights, matching my beautiful purple eyes," she snorted, taking a shot at the hoop above one of the garage doors. "It ain't natural," she sneered – reality sunk in – Gambit sat on some steps near the other side of the garage, a cloud of smoke escaping his mouth. He smirked over the cigarette between his lips.

Another puff before he spoke, "Why Rogue, you sound a bit," he snickered, looking for the word, "invidious."

"Are you _always_ following me?" She snapped, unsure of what 'invidious' meant – but not liking it.

"I was here first Cherie." His eyes twinkled playfully. She noticed he was studying her up and down, taking in her more…revealing attire. "I haven't seen you lately. What's been up?" He queried, bringing the cancer stick back for another drag.

"Just enjoying all the quiet Gambit-free time Ah've been gettin."

Her sarcasm only made him grin wider, "do y' wanna play a game?" One hand pointed to the orange ball while the other flicked the cigarette to his feet.

"No thanks," she scuffed, crossing her arms. "Where exactly," she paused, unsure why she was even asking him this, "have you been, anyway?"

"Why?" His expression was smug, filled with delight, "do y' miss me?"

"Do Ah look like Ah want you around?" She rolled her eyes.

"You look like y' wan' something." He chuckled, stepping on the cigarette.

"That's a sick habit you know," she said coolly.

"Is it now?" His playful spirit was still unbroken.

She stared down at him, "Forget it, Ah'm just—"

"I'm back!" Dallas rounded the corner. Her cheery appearance becoming faint at the sight of Rogue. "Oh," she slipped the Cajun a bottle of beer, "Hey Rogue."

The Southerner returned the phony greeting, "Hey _Dallas_." She bundled her black mass of curls in a messy bun before slipping down beside Gambit. His arm snaked its way behind the girl as he leaned back. Rogue unconsciously kept her eye on it; the thief didn't lay a hand on the new recruit, to the goth's relief. Wait, was she actually _relieved_ about that?

"Y' alright?" Remy raised an eyebrow.

Rogue shook her head, "What? Yeah, Yeah, Ah'm fine." In that instant however, she wasn't sure if she really was. _What is going on? _She thought to herself, making a face.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" The Dutch girl teased, irritation laced in her words.

"Not today," she paused, eyeing Gambit as he took a swig of his beer, "not since, ya know," the Cajun didn't break the serious stare he had with the Southern belle, "the uhh… murder situation."

"Oh." The Dutch girl forced a smile as Rogue took another glance at his arm and back at the ground.

"Ah just remembered," She beckoned her thumb in a random direction, "got to meet Logan…" The Southerner turned quickly, marching down the sidewalk.

"Maybe we can have a chat tonight Chere?"

"You said you would show me around town tonight," Dallas pouted at Gambit.

"Maybe not…" Rogue called back, hoping he wouldn't notice she was bothered.

_What is wrong with me?_ Her mind was making her nuts,_ I don't care about what that womanizing swamp-rat does! Get a hold of yourself Rogue. That girl is just so…what is wrong with her. Why doesn't she like me! Why doesn't anybody notice it…_

The X-woman felt a slight hopelessness as she wandered back into the mansion. She felt somewhat like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs.

* * *

_I think it's time for a well deserved break from this place._ Rogue held the short black spaghetti strap dress in front of her – spinning to get a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _Perfect_, she thought, slipping the dress on quickly.

She heard the door click as Kitty Pryde entered the bedroom.

"Where are you like, getting ready to go off to?" The young girl quizzed curiously.

The Southerner smiled, gliding on nylon thigh highs. The tops of the stockings were barely hidden by the petite dress.

"There's a Garbage tribute downtown," the goth peered into a mirror, caking on the usual makeup. "Ah'm going to watch it."

"Garbage?" The valley girl raised an eyebrow, figuring it must've been another one of the rock bands her roommate loved so endearingly. "You can't go downtown," she crossed her arms, "It's like, totally a weeknight."

"So," Rogue spat.

"So, Logan won't let you. It's against the rules!"

"Listen," the Southerner turned, pointing a tube of black lipstick at the younger X-woman, "When Ah lived in the Brotherhood boarding house, Ah did what Ah wanted on the weeknights. If Ah feel like going out, which Ah never do anymore anyway, then Ah _will_." She turned back to the mirror, rolling the stain on her lips.

"Right," Kitty scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Good luck getting out."

Rogue just glared in return, snapping a lacey black collar around her neck.

"Plus," Shadowcat looked her up and down, "Logan will _freak_ if he sees you dressed like that."

"Since _when_, did Ah give the indication that it matters to me what Logan says?" Rogue was becoming very impatient with her friend. She was going out to a bar, and needed to look older. Of course, there was _no way_ she'd ever indicate to the valley girl that this tribute was in a club that sold alcohol. The Southerner slid a light trench coat over her outfit before scooping up the black stilettos she rarely wore from her closet floor.

"Good luck," Kitty giggled, certain that her roommate would be back very soon. She had tried a number of times herself to sneak out and failed miserably. Rogue just gave her a wink, exiting the room.

She ambled quickly down the corridor, putting most of her weight on her toes as to not draw attention to herself. It wasn't but 8:30 pm anyway, so she wasn't too suspicious. Instead of leaving the mansion via the front door, she thought it best to slink out through the west wing's garage.

The goth was almost home free; her body smacked into a much larger one, sending her back a couple of steps dizzily.

"Stripes, I was looking for you."

"Logan," she chewed her lip nervously. _Crap_, she thought.

"Can we talk?" He asked, his voice low.

"Uhh, sure." The Southerner swallowed hard. "What's the proble—"

He held up the pair of gloves she had put in the wash from the week before, "found these. I don't suppose they wouldn't belong to you?"

"Yeah," she scrunched her brow, "they do." Her thoughts began to race.

"I don't know how to say this kid, so I'm going to come right out and say it," his jaw was stern, "they smell like blood." Were those the gloves from the night at Bayville High? She had tossed them in the wash quickly upon her return with Gambit. She had picked the stray knife up with them. "I'm waiting for an explanation Rogue…"

"Ah cut myself in danger room," she began.

"See, that's the thing," he analyzed her as he spoke, "it's not your blood." She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, "…it ain't anybody else's from here either."

Her emerald eyes shifted from the glove, back to his stare. She snatched it from his grip with a smile, "Ah don't know Logan," she shrugged, "Maybe it was from helping this girl at school. In gym she got a nose bleed and—"

"Uh huh." He raised an eyebrow.

"Ah'm sorry Logan, can we talk about this later," she looked at the clock on the wall, "Ah have to go."

"Go?" He growled softly, "Rogue, you know the rules. You're meant to be here during weeknights."

She shook her head, thinking quickly, "Ah just have to go out quickly. Ah'll be back before ten. Please?" She stuck her bottom lip out.

"Be back by _nine thirty_," he grumbled, "and _only_ if you talk to me about this," he pointed to the glove in her hand, "when you get back."

"Thanks Logan!" before Wolverine could say another word; the goth scurried down the hallway, releasing a sigh of relief when she reached the entrance hall. Confident that the coast was clear, the X-woman slipped in the other direction, heading to the garage again. When she entered it, she kicked off her boots, stepping into the heels she'd been concealing.

"Well, well, well," Remy's voice frightened her enough, she nearly stumbled into Scott's convertible.

"Gambit," she snapped nastily, "don't sneak up on me like that!" She smoothed her hair, readjusting the strap on the sexy shoes.

"Pretty fancy shoes y' got dere ma Cherie," he bit his lip, "what y' be veiling beneath that big coat, eh?"

"None of your business LeBeau," she trudged to the side door, hoping she wouldn't have any more distractions.

"I hope you don't have a date tonight," he teased.

Her pace slowed gleefully to a stop; she smirked, "I do," she lied.

The thief, unprepared for her untruth screwed his face up, "Y' do?"

"Did Ah stutter?"

He looked away, quietly laughing as he retorted, "Guess I'm jus' jealous petite."

But, she could tell he wasn't joking.

* * *

**A/N: Two chapters in one day! Exhausting, but self-fulfilling; enjoy! **

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – A Rogue/Remy kiss sounds good to me! We'll see what the future brings them. Thanks for such a prompt review. I plan on reading chapter 6 of Love Rectangles tomorrow. Looking forward to it! Thanks again =)**


	14. A Drunken Mind Speaks a Sober Heart

**Chapter 14: A Drunken Mind Speaks a Sober Heart**

Gambit ruffled the papers and pictures in the drawer by his bed impatiently. "Zut," he huffed, wondering where in the world the extra set of cards he was storing had gone. He withdrew from the search, hearing a soft knock at his door. "Son ouvert," he called. When nobody replied he grunted, forgetting that he was the only one at the institute who spoke French fluently.

A cheery Kitty Pryde stood in his doorway, a mountain of clothes in her arms. "Chanton," he began, "it's 12:10 in de morning. What are y—"

"Well, I like, _had_ to have this shirt done tomorrow. I'm having lunch with Lance. Your clothes were in the wash ahead of time. So I just dried them for you."

"And folded," he smiled, "thanks petite!"

She yawned, "It's no problem. I had to keep awake somehow anyway."

"Y' should get some sleep girl," he took the wobbily skyscraper of garments from her hands.

The valley girl nodded, "goodnight Remy."

"Bon nuit Chanton," he softly kicked the door closed behind himself. The Cajun placed the stack on one of his dressers and plopped onto his bed; falling back into the soft sheets and pillows. Gambit watched the fan on his ceiling as his eyelids fluttered a moment, soon closing. The fierce gurgle of his stomach snapped him back to reality. _I can't already be hungry,_ he thought, putting his gloved hand to his abdomen. The thief felt the vibration as it growled again.

"Maybe I am," he chuckled to himself, stretching his arms. Maybe heading to the kitchen wasn't such a bad idea. Nighttime snacks were always the best anyway; no other students in the kitchen to bother him. He was sure to be quiet as he slipped from his room and moved down the hallway.

He gripped the kitchen doorknob, startled by a throaty growl.

"Mon dieu," he spun around, "what the hell was that?" He snuck quietly down the corridor a ways, peeking into the recreation room. _Come on Gambit,_ he gulped,_ that 'monster' those kids talk about, it ain't real. Get a grip._ The profound snarl alarmed him further. His wide eyes scanned the room hastily. Relief washed over him like a wave; he stifled a laugh.

"Just Logan," he muttered to himself, observing the bad-tempered man who was snoring ferociously beneath a newspaper advertisement. Gambit ambled into the kitchen, flicking on the light. He snickered to himself, grabbing up one of Wolverine's bottles of cheap bourbon. He hummed happily to himself, scanning the cupboards for a snack. "Oreos," he turned the package over, reading the label to himself. The Cajun shrugged, "dis should suffice."

He hurried back to his room, slipping inside undetected. "Oh come on Remy," he sighed, "forgot a rocks glass." He shook his head, placing the unusual midnight snack on his nightstand. As he snuck down the hall yet again, a nearby ringing phone grabbed his attention. "Oh jeez," the thief scooped the phone up immediately – worried that Logan would awake. The last thing he needed was to be caught borrowing his liquor again.

"Xavier Institute, where gifted youngsters and beautiful persons reside," he chuckled at his own greeting.

"Is," a small voice on the phone paused, "Kitty there?"

Suspicious, the Cajun replied, "Actually, I do believe she has already retired for the night. Can I take a message?"

"Well," the girl on the other line sounded concerned, "maybe you can help me?"

"Perhaps," he raised an eyebrow. He could hear coughing and mumbling in the background.

"My name is Claire, I go to school with Jean and Scott." The phone clanked against something, Remy scrunched his brow as the girl continued, "I ran into Rogue tonight. She's a little… out of it."

"Wait…what!" He came out of his lean from against the wall, "she ain't supposed to be out."

"I'm sure she wasn't supposed to be drinking either," the girl sheepishly suggested.

Remy LeBeau slapped his forehead, "okay, tell me where you guys are, please."

* * *

Her temple bumped against the glass window; she felt every lump in the road. When Remy had arrived, the Southerner was led by two other gothic looking teens, knocking off of them like a pin ball. He was shocked she could even stand in those shoes he'd seen earlier.

"Are we almost there?" She queried in a slur.

The Cajun smirked, keeping his eyes on the darkness ahead, "Well, Remy never thought he'd see this day."

"Ah used to go out _all_ the time." She snapped sloppily.

"I was talkin' 'bout you bein drunk Chere."

"Ah am _not_ drunk, thank you," she huffed a lock from her view, "just buzzed."

The X-man expressed his amusement with a snort, "we're here now. Jus' be quiet okay?" He hauled her back upright by her shoulders as she wobbly walked alongside him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to smuggle the illegally inebriated teen back into the mansion, and all the way to his bedroom.

"So," he closed the door, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "Date didn' go as y' planned, eh?"

The Southerner scanned the room, squinting, "this isn't my room," she barked.

Gambit swiftly brought a finger to his lips, shushing her. "I can't just drop y' into that room. Shadowcat was up not too long ago. We got t' get you cleaned up first Rogue." He watched her blink, figuring the room must have been spinning. "So," he began again, "was your _date_ twenty-one?" His red on black eyes shifted to the coat she was throwing to the floor.

She was giggling now, "There wasn't a date swamp-rat. Ah was just foolin'."

It was a joke? He cocked his head to the side. He didn't give it another thought though; the short little dress that was blanketed by the trench coat she'd recently discarded was a pleasant surprise. His jaw was slightly ajar; fascinated at the sight.

"You're drooling," she teased. He grew even more staggered.

"You need t' change," he shook the shock from his expression; fumbling through a nearby dresser drawer. "Here," he pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a ribbed tank top.

She sat down on the bed, kicking the high shoes to the side. Her hands slid slowly up her legs, revealing the tops of her thigh highs. The Cajun stood before her, gulping down the urge to help her remove them. Rogue's movements were sloppy, and somehow exceptionally alluring. Remy ogled helplessly.

"Chere," he smirked, "take these and change in the bathroom." When she didn't take them, he tossed them beside her. Remy sighed in frustration, unbuttoning his black shirt. He glanced over his shoulder – the X-woman lay silently on her back, arm slung over her eyes. The top skated down his muscles, falling to the floor beside her trench coat. The thief faced Rogue again, noticing her examining him. His mouth turned upward; smugly. "Ta da," he wriggled his eyebrows, beckoning an arm towards his abs, provoking her.

"Gambit," she slurred, "shut…up…"

He only laughed in response, returning his attention to the pile of clothing on his dresser. He picked at it, searching for a proper night shirt. Movement on the bed caught his interest; the Southerner had gathered up the shirt and pants he'd offered her. She was moving towards the bathroom.

"Y' want some help?" he teased.

She scolded him briefly, stumbling into the private restroom. He chuckled to himself, hearing her staggering around, bumping into random things. He fell backwards onto his bed, listening to her grumbles. He began to drift off again, suddenly brought back to reality hearing the door click open. The Southern belle was leaning lethargically in the doorway, tugging softly at the rim of the t-shirt she'd borrowed from him.

"This shirt is," she hiccupped, and the Cajun stifled a laugh, "four times bigger than me." She pushed her bottom lip out, pouting. Gambit couldn't help but marvel at her.

She looked up at the Cajun who was leaning back onto his elbow trying not to laugh at her argumentative ways. She was studying his fine chiseled chest, his muscular built; he knew it.

Rogue was ready to admit to herself that she was _really_ drunk. Suddenly she felt embarrassed, her cheeks flooded with pink.

"What's the matter Cherie?" Remy chuckled, amused at the sight of a swaying Rogue. "Y' alright," he queried again, tilting his head to the side. The Southerner blinked a moment; squinting, then closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Ah'm just a little dizzy," she touched her gloved fingertips to her temple, wincing softly.

He patted the bed. She opened her glossy green eyes, suspicion looming in them. He lowered his eyes, "oh don't look at me like that," he was bothered by that look, "if y' dizzy then y' should sit down and sober up. I'll get you a glass of water." He rolled off the side of the bed, scooping up a cup from the counter.

Rogue sat down on the sheets, listening to the Cajun run water in the bathroom. "What are ya doin?" Her tone trailed off, sounding almost like an annoyed toddler.

"Well first," He walked a step out, folding her dress over his arm, "Since y' can't seem t' fold y' own clothes... I'll take care o' it." The Southerner watched as he neatly set them next to his own pile on the dresser.

"Can Ah sleep here?" her voice was quiet, she curled up against the black pillows.

He was caught off guard, nearly dropping the watch he was taking off, "What?" He shook his head, "No Rogue, I know y' tired, but you can't."

"Just let me take a nap," she yawned.

The thief chewed the inside of his cheek, releasing a heavy sigh. "Alright," he started, "but, y' can't give me a hard time when I wake you to go back t' yours. Got it?"

She nodded silently, eyes still closed. She was still very dizzy. The Cajun retrieved a spare blanket from a shelf in his closet, settling soon after in a large armchair. He retrieved his nearby cell phone, setting an alarm for 2:30 am.

_This is probably a horrible idea_, he sighed again to himself. As badly as he'd wanted to spend more time with Rogue, she wasn't in the best state of mind. Only a dim red-orange light from atop his dresser illuminated some of the room. With the silence, he finally realized how exhausted he truly was. Gambit yawned again, stretching his arms out.

"Remy," her voice was coy.

"Mmm?"

"Lay with me?"

"Chere, I don't thin—"

"—please…"

He bit his lip, his heart thumping hard. Remy LeBeau slipped from his made-up bed, hesitantly resting beside the young girl; he was sure to leave a good amount of space between them.

"Can Ah ask ya a question?"

"Quiz away." The Cajun closed his eyes, listening to her shift her weight.

"Are you happy?"

He chuckled, "what d' you mean?"

"Ah mean, are you _happy_?"

"Oh Rogue," he laughed a little louder, but still soft, "you should get some sleep."

"Ah don't like it," she huffed; the room was spinning.

He didn't say anything. He was hopeful she'd dose off, so he could carry her carefully back to her room. He would be patient.

"The way she looks at you."

His brow furrowed in curiosity, heart still thump-thumping. Was she talking about Dallas?

"Is that why y' been drinkin petite?" His words supple.

"Do you feel bad for me?" she sighed. Despite the gyrating world around her, thoughts of the conversation she with Cody flooded her brain. He had felt bad for her; pitied her. The goth felt the weight of the bed move a little as he shifted now. Then she felt his gloved finger tips take her chin and make her look at him. He was leaning over her now.

"Rogue," he started, "don' be silly." He watched a tear skate down her cheek. "What's this about?"

"Me... my powers." She whispered.

He stroked her cheek with his hand, "I think y' have a heavy load t' deal with Cherie. But, I don't feel bad for you. I _admire_ you." She turned her whole body towards him now, looking up, he studied her face.

"You smell like cigarettes and cinnamon," she closed her eyes, chewing softly on her lower lip. He laughed quietly, abruptly feeling knots behind his bellybutton.

"Do I?" He purred. They were inches from one another now; silence clung between them.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes falling on him in a way he'd never seen before.

He had been falling quite hard for this girl; he was sure of it now. But in this instant, it was so sudden that he ached for her, _this_ desperately. She watched his chest rise and fall, almost hearing his heartbeat. Gambit leaned down slowly, leaving the slightest of space between their lips. Her breath hitched; the thief barely made out the aroma of alcohol beneath Rogue's vanilla scent – it was enough to make him retreat – reminding him of the circumstances.

"I think it's time t' take y' back t' your room Cherie," Remy's chest was beating feverishly. She sat up, pretending to ignore it when he slipped a pillow over his groin; veiling his desire.

"Ah don't want to go back," she cooed, rolling over a bit too quickly on the bed. Before she knew it, she had tumbled over the edge, catching the back of her head on the side of his nightstand.

"Rogue!" He jumped up, running to the other side. She looked up at him, even more dazed than before. On the spot, she was in a fit of giggles.

He scooped her up in his brawny arms, positioning her back on the comfort of his bed. "Ah'm fine." She laughed, rubbing at the back of her skull. His face was still one of concern. He shook his head, sitting down beside her. The goth sat up, falling serious again.

"Thank you," she paused, "for helping me tonight."

Remy now looked relieved, and didn't appear the least bit bothered. A small smile was curled in the corner of his mouth. "Y' bein' pretty nice to me," he chuckled, "can't say I'm gon' let you live this down."

"You better if you don't want your new girlfriend to find out," her tone was sarcastic.

"Girlfriend?" he repeated, "Dallas?"

Rogue nodded.

"Oh Chere," he laughed quietly again, "No. Dallas is _not_ my girlfriend. We're jus' friends."

"You don't love her?" Rogue raised an eyebrow, starting to feel a bit foolish.

"I don't even know her," he shook his head. "Where is this comin' from?"

"You don't know me either…"

"I know more than y' think," he teased. They found themselves sitting in silence again. The Southerner stopped Remy as he began to rise off the bed. This time, she cupped _his_ face, turning it to her own.

"Chere," he breathed.

"It's okay," she drew close to him, "Ah want you to."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks, still, again, for reading! **

**Wolf Skater – I was too sick of the denial to **_**not**_** write this chapter, haha. I hope it was alright! =)**


	15. Suppressed Affection

**Chapter 15****: Suppressed Affection**

Rogue couldn't believe what she had just said; even more than this, how much she meant it! _What am I saying!_ Her thoughts shrieked, knowing that the slightest move would cause the second poisonous kiss she'd have thus far in her lifetime. She felt his light panting again, tickling her lips. Goose bumps overtook her body.

"Gambit, Ah—"but before she could think twice about withdrawing – the charming thief stole her kiss. She abruptly pulled away, gasping at the deed; her heart raced uncontrollably – as did his. She screwed up her face, looking him up and down. He was okay? The Cajun brought an ungloved finger-tip to his lips.

He moved in again, this time pressing the weight of his body against her. She fell back against the pile of pillows. Fear struck her like a bolt of lightning; her arms pushed upward, breaking them apart a second time.

_What is going on?_ She thought, realizing that the young boy was still conscious and well. And Gambit grasped that too. He gazed down at her, watching the girl chew on the inside of her cheek. She swallowed nervously.

Rogue felt the X-man over her, this time drawing down to her gradually. The Southerner found herself beneath his mouth for the third time that evening – his breath giving her spine tiny electric shocks.

"Do y' still _want_ me to?" He whispered, a small smirk tugging at his jaw.

Her heart continued to thump; she approved with a supple nod.

Remy LeBeau besieged her lips, leaning against her in a lengthy and fervent kiss. For the first time, the 'girl who couldn't touch' had gotten a taste of somebody else - and the Cajun was delicious. Her thoughts whirled, her heart pounded, and her body became warm with desire. "Remy," she tried to breath, but the man just continued to savor the feeling of her skin.

She felt him remove his gloves above her – never breaking away. He tenderly slipped beneath the bottom of the t-shirt, taking one of her hips with his naked touch. The sensation of his bare fingertips digging into her normally toxic skin brought her heart to her throat. Gambit broke away from her mouth now, smiling down at her. The Southerner moved her hand on top of the one squeezing the side of her tiny waist.

Why was it so hard for her to admit to herself, that the reason Gambit's keeping secrets hurt so much, was because she'd truly _cared_ how he treated her. She was thinking of this, thinking about how everything was happening so fast. One minute, she had been certain she loathed this womanizer – and the next – no… no, she didn't love him. Right? She was falling for his tricks? Maybe…

Her palpitating chest heaved up and down silently - the Cajun still kissing her meaningfully. Rogue's breath hitched beneath his mouth, feeling the weight of his _whole_ body now, on top of hers. She slipped her own gloves from her hands now, running them down his muscles, to the small of his back. His skin was smooth; velvety beneath her fingertips.

"Why can I touch you?" She asked his ear in a whisper. Remy shook his head softly, implying he wasn't quite certain – but didn't care. His messy hair hung in front of his eyes as he smiled at her.

Her bare hand cupped his gravely and scratchy chin, "Cherie," he smirked mischievously, "s'il vous plait?" He gently seized her exposed hand in his own - kneading delicately at her palm – the boy led her hands down his chest, to the brim of his loose-fitting pants.

* * *

Rogue's green eyes snapped open; her chest still pounding profusely. With a heavy breath, she allowed her eyes to shift back and forth – baffled. In an instant, a hammering headache consumed her. The girl groaned, pursing her lips together and cringing. Early memories from her night flooded her mind; dancing, drinking… lots of drinking. She fell frozen in reflection; the Southerner had been dreaming about Remy LeBeau. To make matters worse, she dreamt about _hooking up_ with Remy LeBeau and_ wanting _to. Her brow bunched at the thought, a disgusted look overtaking her expression. How could she think about such things with somebody who treated women so… so… so… expendably? And then her look softened – _he hasn't treated me like that_, she admitted to herself.

Insight suddenly hit her like a freight train; she wasn't in her room! Light snaked through the shades, giving her unfamiliar environment a soft morning glow. Something tenderly squeezed her abdomen, pulling her body against it. _It_, was _obviously_ a person. Panic-stricken, the Southerner shifted, recognizing a murmuring accent. Remy was nestled up against her, chattering quietly in his slumber.

_It was a dream, right! _The goth felt overwhelmed with uncertainty.

A knock at the door caused the Cajun to stir beside her.

"Gambit," Bobby Drake called. He knocked harder, "Gambit!" The thief's eyes opened with a miserable groan. He closed them slowly with a yawn. And then he remembered; the X-man sprung up to attention, out of the blue - a speechless and confused looking Rogue, gaping up at him. "Gambit," the young recruit punched the door a third time, "Logan is going to kick your ass if you don't get down to training A.S.A.P."

Rogue swallowed, her eyes narrowing at the Cajun. In return, he stared back at her, stuttering, "R-R-Rogue," he slapped his forehead, "I knew this was gon' happen."

"Oh?" She snapped, "You did, huh? _What_ exactly _did_ happen, swamp-rat?" He voice although harsh, was shaky.

"Gambit," Bobby grumbled again.

"I'll be down in a minute!" The thief sneered, watching the X-woman leap of his bed.

"Ah'm in your _clothes!_" She gasped. How much of that dream was really a dream? Was it even a dream at all! She looked to her hands, recalling her ability to touch freely again. But they weren't bare; black gloves enveloped them. The Southerner heaved a huge sigh of relief, her bright green eyes meeting once again with Gambit's. "What happened…" her tone was cold.

"I just," he started, nervously, "brought y' back here t' clean you up. And," he paused, "y' asked to stay with me."

"Ah would not!" She lied; the girl picked angrily at her memory, wondering if she really did or not.

"Y' did so," he retorted defensively, "I told y' it wasn't a good idea. Y' didn't even fall asleep."

"What are you talkin' about LeBeau?"

"Took a tumble off the bed," he beckoned his hand toward the nightstand, "you hit your head. Boom, you was out cold." She searched his face for untruths; a pang of guilt jolting her for making immediate accusations. "I put y' back on my bed to try and get'cha to come to." His voice had settled down now, "I must've fallen asleep, waiting for y' t' wake up."

"Nothing happened then?" She quizzed calmly, hugging herself.

He shook his head, "I would never do that Cherie." He smiled softly but a brief moment, at the thought of the _almost kiss_ they nearly shared before she fell off his bed. That whiff of alcohol reminded him it wasn't the appropriate time to share his true feelings with her. But the way she looked at him in that moment was entirely different – it ignited hope in his heart. Had he known about her dream, that tiny flame would be a raging blaze by now.

"Good," she mumbled, suppressing the disappointment that there was no mysterious control of her powers after all.

The thundering headache she'd felt when she first woke up was really prominent now. The Southerner groaned, pushing her hands to her temple. She grew dizzy as the room turned unexpectedly.

"Rogue?" Remy queried, "Are you alright Chere?"

Wordlessly, the X-woman fled to his private bathroom. The thief winced at the unpleasant sounds she made.

He was in-step to check on her when another hard thudding came to the door. Frustrated, the Cajun stomped to it, "Yeah," he snapped, "What now _Bobby_?" But it wasn't Iceman that stared back at him; it was Wolverine.

"I told you to be in the danger room _fifteen minutes ago_, Bub." His upper lip trembled in sync with his low growl.

"_Wolverine_," he called loudly, hoping Rogue would hear him. "Why homme, I thought t'day was my evening session."

"You know you're supposed to be coaching the new recruits in weaponry today," the gruff man sounded more than edgy, "This is the third tim—"

"I know, I know," Remy raised his arms in defense, "I'm sorry. I'll be down in a minute. I just need t' change."

"Is that alcohol I smell Gambit?" Logan caught the younger man off guard.

"What," he chuckled apprehensively, "What are y' talking about Logan. Non, it's not."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not, I just," he paused, "haven't done laundry in awhile, and I went out last weekend." Wolverine suspiciously glowered at the Cajun. "Okay?" Remy cleared his throat. "I'll be down in a minute." He pushed the door closed, holding his breath until Logan's growls were heard marching away.

Rogue whimpered in the bathroom.

* * *

The sound of Kitty Pryde's voice was ear-splitting. The Southerner's head felt like it was going to explode, and her stomach? Maybe implode? Rogue groaned, ignoring the valley girl's complaints concerning Lance Alvers.

_I have to get out of here,_ she cried to herself desperately. _She's going to kill me if she doesn't shut up!_ It was then that the X-woman decided she needed to ingest some ibuprofens after all. She had hoped to avoid the over-the-counter pain killers, as she never usually gets headaches anyway.

"Kitty," Rogue interrupted, "Ah'll be back. Ah need to get a glass of water."

"Alright Rogue," her roommate beamed brightly, continuing to comb her hair in front of the mirror. The Southerner fled from their chambers, strutting down the hall swiftly. She needed a break; there was way too much going on in her head, in addition to the physical aches and pains.

She found her way to the elevator in the hallway, pushing the downward arrow. Eventually she found herself entering the sick bay, Beast peering over a textbook at her. He adjusted his large glasses.

"Why Rogue," he smiled, "What can I do for you?"

"Ah need some Advil please," she pleaded. With a smile he nodded.

"Certainly, let's see what we can do, yes?" The blue giant searched some nearby cabinets for a moment, examining a few bland looking bottles. "Ah, here we are," he turned to her. The container looked miniature in his large palm. "Do you have a headache?"

She nodded silently.

"Well," he began, "just take two of these. In four hours you may take four more, but no more than six per day!" He warned, looking at her sternly. The Southerner smiled.

"Thank you, Hank." She turned to leave, only stopping herself in thought. "Beast?" She rounded, facing him again.

"Mmm?"

"How much do you have to drink before you completely black out?" She chewed on her lip.

"This is a hypothetical question," he lowered his eyes to her, "I hope."

"Of course!" She lied with a nervous grin.

He smiled as he spoke, "it depends on the individual Rogue. But, generally, quite a bit." He seemed to ponder the inquisition for a few silent seconds, "may I ask why?"

"Ah'm just wondering," she waved, hurrying out.

Rogue had been concentrating on the previous night, sorting the bits and pieces she was remembering. According to the thief that rescued her from Logan's wrath, she had been knocked out after hitting her head. She didn't recall this; however, she was certain that they _really did_ almost kiss. The Southerner could vividly recollect Remy telling her he "admired her", how he comforted her, how he drew in towards her, how she nearly invited him to kiss her. And then, she remembered him pulling away, as if he'd realized it was improper. She'd wished that such a scene was merely part of her intense dream - but it wasn't.

It had been easy to ignore the suave X-man since Logan had arrived that morning. He had apologized to her, leaving her moaning in pain on his bathroom floor. The Cajun, fearing Logan's return and misinterpretation of the situation, rushed down to the war room and training where he was meant to be. When Rogue collected her senses, she snuck out of his room quickly, racing to the shower. The Southerner hid beneath her bed sheets for the remainder of the day – Kitty in and out of the room, chattering away.

She touched her gloved fingertips to her temporal lobe, sighing. Her belly was gurgling now; she hadn't eaten since the night before. Her destination was now the institute's kitchen – that is - until the doorbell rang.

She peered around the corner curiously. Ororo answered it, opening the door.

"Good morning ma'am," an officer smiled, "we're looking for a Miss," he glanced back down at the clipboard in his hands, "Rogue?"

The Southerner's heart skipped a beat.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**

**Wolf Skater – I hope the level of ROMY was worth the read! =) Thanks for your feedback!**


	16. Seeing Through Different Eyes

**Chapter 16**:

**Seeing Through Different Eyes**

* * *

Rogue twiddled her thumbs nervously in her lap; she was listening to the muffled conversation from Professor Xavier's office. The Bayville Police Department made frequent stops to the Brotherhood Boarding House, but in all her stay at the institute – never. Her stare elevated from her feet to the silent Wolverine seated across from her. There was only one thing now, circulating through the Southerner's thoughts - that was Bud Thomas.

With the previous night's events, the goth had allowed the horrific situation to rest in the back of her memory. Awaking beside the infamous heartbreaker Remy LeBeau had proved to be a bit distracting.

_Why didn't I just talk to Logan about this the other night?_ She felt tight pain in her abdomen; her nerves made her queasy. _Or the professor,_ she asked herself in despair. There didn't seem to be a feasible excuse for her neglect – except the yearning to pretend it never happened. After waiting a week or so, part of her believed that maybe the X-men _wouldn't_ believe her. What if they hadn't known her well enough? She did train and work for Mistique, a brilliant spy and emissary at one point, for Magneto. Or maybe it was as simple as the professor reading her thoughts; could he tell if she was lying or not? She chewed her lip, stirring restlessly in her chair.

Would Logan give her the third degree for lying about the blood scented glove? 'Why would you lie about it if you didn't have something to hide?' she imagined him pressing her for answers. Rogue brought her gaze back to Wolverine again. His face was difficult to read – a mix between concern and anger.

_Why did I lie?_ The Southerner queried silently to herself once more. Maybe that answer would always be unclear to her. _Maybe it's something entirely different; they might be here to discuss another situation,_ she was hopeful – but knew better.

The door to the professor's office was already slightly ajar; Logan and Rogue directed their attention to it when one of the officers pulled it all the way open.

"Good morning," the man in uniform shook the X-man's hand, "could we please have a word with your daughter? You're welcome to join us."

Wolverine, whom at this point had been standing up - accepting the hand-shake, looked down at the younger girl, "She aint my daughter. I'm an instructor here."

"Oh," the officer nodded, "in that case, may we speak with the young lady in private?"

"In the company of her legal guardian of course," the other policeman suggested.

"Who may that be?" The first looked to the Southerner.

"Charles," Logan answered for her. Rogue nodded obediently.

"Alright then," the officer stepped to the side, indicating that the goth enter the office.

"I'll be around if you guys need me," Logan tucked his hands into his pockets; a stern stare was sent in her direction. She hurriedly entered the leader of the X-men's office, taking a new seat from across his desk.

"Rogue," She brought her emerald eyes up once again, this time to meet the kind look from the Professor. "Officer Trevort says that the anonymous caller has brought your name to attention."

"Attention to what?" She asked, playing the ignorant card.

"The murder of Bud Thomas," one of the officers looked down at her. "A tip came in the other night, saying that a girl fitting your description was spotted fleeing the scene."

_An anonymous tip?_ Her brain screamed, trying to recall anybody who may have caught sight of her.

The other cop spoke up, "where were you the evening of May 5th?"

"Ah was," she paused in thought, trying to think of what to do, what to say, "Ah was here. Ah think." Her gaze fell into the professor's path again – maybe it was best to start being a little more honest? "Actually," she swallowed, "Ah did go out for a walk. But that's all."

"Did you know the victim?" One of the officers asked; they were both scribbling information on separate notepads.

She shook her head, "not personally. Ah recognized his face when his picture came up on the news. That's all though…" The X-woman decided to speak up a little louder, "you know, actually, Ah _was_ near the high school that night. But Ah just passed through," she bent the truth.

"Is there any reason you were there?"

"Just passing through," she cleared her throat, "Remy… he ran into me that night," she nodded in Xavier's direction.

"Is there any reason somebody would suggest they witnessed you _fleeing_ from the area?"

"Well," she deliberated hastily, "Ah don't think so." _That's all you can think of Rogue? Come on!_

"When did you get back here?"

"Ah'm, Ah'm not sure. Honestly, Ah had a disagreement with the man who met up with me that night; Remy. And," she shrugged, "Ah just sort of walked back home with him… didn't pay attention."

One officer looked to the other, "we should probably speak with this Remy…" he glanced back at the professor, looking for a last name.

"LeBeau," Xavier smiled. "I will request that he join us immediately." Rogue knew he would be mentally calling the Cajun.

"Is there any reason that somebody may want to drop your name in this case ma'am?"

"No," she chewed her lip, "Ah wouldn't think so at least. Maybe you got the wrong person?"

"The caller stated that they had seen a young girl, with white and auburn hair, fleeing from the scene." She swallowed shaking her head. "There aren't many females in Bayville suiting that description…"

The professor's chin was resting on his hands now, listening between his student and the investigators.

"Well," the officer began again, "did you see anything suspicious?"

"The football field lights were on," she mused over this, wondering if it was wise to point it out or not, "Ah remember seeing the back of the school lit up – and thinking that was strange." The investigators continued to jot down their notes. "Ah'm pretty sure that was it though."

Remy LeBeau's head popped in through the door.

"Professor?" He asked, surprised to see the men in uniform, "What," he gradually entered, studying the men up and down, "is going on?"

"Were you with this young lady the night of May 5th?" One of them spoke, not breaking eye contact from the small notepad in his hand.

"What?" Gambit raised an eyebrow.

"Were you with this," the officer's eyes met now with Remy's, "young lady?" He had pointed to Rogue.

"I, I don't know." He shrugged, trying to recall what night was May 5th.

"Are you her boyfriend?" The officer continued.

"No," Rogue interrupted piercingly; Remy frowned. She settled back down in her chair, pink flushing her cheeks.

"I am not," Gambit's voice was gentle, maintaining eye contact with the Southerner. He directed his attention to the officers questioning him. "What is dis about?"

"Miss Rogue suggests that on this night, she was out for a _walk_, and you met up with her."

"Oh!" he remembered, "Oui. It was pretty late. She was near Bayville Park. We walked home together."

"Do you remember anything in particular from this night?" They asked again.

The thief chewed his lip in thought, looking at the office ceiling. "No," he shook his head, "everything seemed hunky dory." But he was looking at Rogue now – his face implying that he knew she wasn't telling them the whole story. She swallowed, crossing her arms and slinking down the chair a tad. "Is dere anything else I can d' for you gentlemen?" Remy smiled.

The investigators silently exchanged glances. "Well," the shorter one sighed, "I guess not right now. We'll be in touch." He tucked the notes into a back pocket, "in the meantime, please contact us if anything comes up, or if you remember anything. My name again is Officer Trevort, and this is my partner, Officer Smith."

"I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help to you officers," the professor shook both their hands.

"No need for apologies," the one man exclaimed, "thank you for your time." He spared Rogue a suspicious look, making her uneasy in her seat.

"Remy," Xavier began, "please see these gentlemen to the door." The Cajun nodded with a smile. As he turned to leave, the goth received an inquisitive look from him a second time. She swallowed hard. He wished in that moment that he could walk Rogue to the door instead – questions treading his brain.

The room hushed immediately; awkwardness surrounding Rogue and the professor.

"Rogue," he stared intently, "_have_ you any information concerning this situation?"

She shook her head, her heart pounding. Why couldn't she just tell him? Her mentor breathed a heavy sigh, nodding to her – implying that he approved of her being dismissed.

It certainly sucks when you think you're home free and you end up backed into a corner the minute you make your escape. The moment the goth closed the door and took a breath, she turned to see an unpleasant Wolverine.

"Got somethin' to tell me?" He stared her down straight. Rogue gulped, daring not to look away.

She paused briefly in thought, "Ah don't know what's going on." She lied, mentally kicking herself. "If you'll excuse me, Ah'm not feeling the best still."

She didn't make it very far before he tossed a new question her way, "the gloves?" He queried. How could she forget! "Your classmate, she get a lot of them bloody noses?"

Her breath hitched; Rogue peered down at her hands – remembering. She could almost see the strange looking dagger there, blood running down its sides. "Rogue," she snapped back to reality, "do you need help? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Ah need somebody to trust me," she growled; slightly growing irritated at his pressing of the issue.

"We're your friends now," he paused, "if you you're in some sort of mess. We can help you."

"Ah know Logan," she sighed, pacing onward. She had rounded the corner in time to _just_ miss the Cajun who had rushed back – wanting to ask some questions of his own.

* * *

LATER THAT DAY

* * *

Dr. Hank McCoy sat silently at the kitchen table, his furry face buried in the daily newspaper. He brought the extra large coffee mug to his lips, realizing it was empty. He carefully folded the reading material in his blue palms – saving it for later. He would have stood up, hadn't Ororo already scooped up the steaming hot coffee pot.

"Another cup?" She smiled in his direction.

"Man can never be a woman's equal in the spirit of selfless service with which nature has endowed her," Beast graciously accepted her offer, holding out the bare mug. She shook her head with a bright smile, "Mohandas Ghandi," the Dr. chuckled, knowing Storm wouldn't believe he had come up with such a saying by himself.

"A wise man," she teased, placing the pot back on the appropriate burner.

Hank stirred some sugar in the hot drink, seemingly pondering a moment. "We had some visitors this afternoon?" he inquired curiously. The X-woman continued chopping the vegetables she'd been working on – it was her dinner shift that night.

"Yes," Storm's voice was hesitant, "the Bayville Police Department sent over some investigators to meet with the professor and Rogue."

"Peculiar," murmured Hank, removing his reading glasses. "Is everything alright?"

Ororo smiled in his direction, shrugging her shoulders, "as far as I know."

The large man contemplated his earlier confrontation with the Southerner. She'd been asking him about drinking and blacking out. He wondered if underage drinking played some role in the visit. Storm sensed his deep thought.

"Have you an idea of what's going on?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Hank bunched his brow, "Rogue _did_ inquire about 'blacking out' and drinking this afternoon. Maybe I should talk to Charles about it."

"I don't know," Ororo tossed the diced peppers and onions into a large skillet. The two jumped, watching the Southerner enter from the corridor. _I bet her ears were ringing,_ the older X-woman thought, considering the possibility Rogue had overheard their conversation.

"Hey Beast, hey Storm," she ventured to the refrigerator, pulling open the doors eagerly. The ape-like man stood, tucking the paper beneath his arm.

"Hello Rogue," he smiled gently, now directing his glance to Ororo, "thank you for the coffee. I'll see you both at dinner." He sniffed, a toothy grin appearing on his face, "it smells delicious!" And suddenly, he was gone.

"Are you hungry?" Storm, still stirring the vegetables, asked the younger girl.

"Ah'm just looking for a snack." She replied.

"Why aren't you out with the others?"

Rogue's eyes shifted to where her teacher's hand pointed; many of the other students were excited to see the campus pool opened. All day, the water was filled with her peers. This year in particular was exciting, since it was the first time the pool was heated. Evening swimming was expected to replace late movie nights now that summer was arriving. The Southerner scoffed, looking down at her gloved hands.

"Swimming isn't exactly a _safe_ activity for somebody like me," her tone was cheerless.

Ororo frowned, "I'm pretty sure everybody would be careful if you asked them to be Rogue."

"Sit in the pool where everybody stays at least six feet away from me?" She shook her head, "No thanks, I'll pass." The goth grabbed a soda from the bottom shelf, leaning back against the counter as she cracked it open.

Storm stepped away from the stove, crossing her arms. "Are you feeling okay today?"

The Southerner took a sip from the can before responding, "Yeah, why?" She glanced out the window now, avoiding eye contact with her elder. Torches lined the pool area, their flames reflecting luminously across the water's surface. She watched as Kurt pointed ahead of himself, yelling something she couldn't here before getting a running start to dive in. A pang of envy dispersed throughout her body, fading abruptly.

"You just seem very distracted lately," the goth didn't break her stare out the sliding glass doors. "We care about you, we are concerned." Rogue stood in silence, gaping out at the students laughing and splashing by light of the setting sun and tiki torches. Ororo neared her, mocking her lean against the counter. The more experienced X-woman crossed her arms, smiling out at the group. "How do you like it here?" She was reminded that Rogue had been with the X-men now for about six months.

"There are more rules," the Southerner sighed, "but," she paused, "Ah really like it here." She smiled at the drink clasped in her hands, "Ah'm fine. It has been a hectic week for me."

Storm didn't want to pursue the girl's feelings too much; she changed the subject, "maybe you should _consider_ joining your friends. I think you'll enjoy yourself more than you think."

Kitty was waving in through the window, a towel strung over her shoulders as she dripped.

"They must be freezing," Rogue waved back with a small laugh.

"Well," Ororo checked inside of the oven, "have you been outside lately? It's pretty hot out there for just being May."

Kitty was tapping on the glass now, pointing down at the latch. Rogue moved to the door, unlocking it.

"Come outside," she pleaded. "The water is like, _so_ beautiful. We're going to play volleyball!"

"No thanks."

"Oh please," Kitty batted her thick eyelashes, pouting at her roommate.

The goth scratched at an imaginary itch, unsure of what to say, "Ah just," she paused, "don't really want to right now Kitty. Sorry."

Shadowcat sighed, "Alright, but, you're missing out on _a lot_ of fun." She retreated back into the dusk, saying something to Tabitha who was sitting on the watery steps. Rogue slid the door shut, turning her back to the glass. She glided down it, hugging her knees to her chest. Storm minded her business, humming something to herself as she went on with dinner. Truth be told, the Southerner would have loved to play a good game of moon lit pool volleyball – especially after such a long day. Her brain had finally stopped pulsating out of her skull, and her stomach was settled. The only part of her body that hurt was her heart. It saddened her deeply that she wasn't yet trusting enough of her X-men posse to open up to them. The only other individual at the institute that even knew about her situation with Remy and Cody was Boom Boom, and the goth didn't even bother to tell her about the "closure" he'd given her.

Rogue scoffed at this thought,_ closure? Sure, if you call somebody forgiving you because they feel bad for you, closure._ Her mind whirled, _Gambit doesn't feel bad for me. He told me he "admired" me._ She rubbed her arm as she contemplated further on this thought, _he would tell a girl anything to make them happy. I mean, not that I've been looking for him, but I haven't seen him at all today. You'd think after a night like last night where I_, she cringed,_ almost let him kiss me – he'd have something more to say about it._ She sighed. She had nearly brushed the infamous womanizing Remy LeBeau's lips with her own. She practically invited it! …And she definitely did in her dream. There was no denying that her _feelings_ for the Cajun had altered over the past few months. He wasn't vile; just the thoughts of him using women expendably made Rogue sick. And if he was such a womanizer, where were all these _other_ women? Where were all the one night stands that she'd heard so much gossip about? Since she had been there - there hadn't been any._ To my knowledge at least,_ she sighed again.

"Hey Rogue," she cringed at the voice standing over her, "occupying the kitchen floor is more interesting than socializing?" Dallas giggled, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. She was in a purple bikini, a white towel enveloping her waist.

_Here's one of them_, Rogue rolled her eyes; she suddenly wondered if Remy had kissed the new recruit or not. The thought put a knot in her belly; surprisingly making her glum. _Why would it matter?_ She thought.

"Ahem," Dallas crossed her arms, "Are you going to _move_?" She sneered.

The Southerner sat up, watching as the brunette joined the little pool party. Rogue observed as the girl scanned the area, looking for the Cajun, no doubt. A delightful twinkle lined her violet eyes – spotting the shirtless hunk. The goth's eyes narrowed with a grunt, _I'm going outside,_ she huffed mentally.

* * *

Remy LeBeau ran a hand through his soaked auburn-brown hair – creating sloppy spikes due to the length. Water dripped from his black swim trunks as he trotted over to one of the outdoor tables. He picked up a towel, rubbing away at his face. The thief took a seat beside a dry and cranky looking Wolverine – retrieving the cigarettes he'd hidden beneath where the towel originally sat.

"So," he stuck a smoke between his lips, still chattering, "what did y' think about that little visit today, eh?" He grabbed up the lighter that sat on the table, flicking it on.

"You talkin' about the BPD?" The gruff man leaned back in his chair.

"Oui." Remy took a drag, "I saw y' listenin from down the hall. What do y' think is goin' on?"

Logan was quiet for a moment, deciding if he should talk to the Cajun about it or not, "Well," he began, "I think that Rogue is keeping something from us. I don't know why," he looked toward the pool filled with students, "maybe she doesn't trust us enough."

Gambit considered what his ally said, "perhaps not." A cloud escaped the corner of his mouth, "can't blame her."

This annoyed Wolverine, "what's that supposed to mean," he grumbled.

"It means," Gambit inhaled and exhaled the tobacco, "she hasn't known us but six months. If she doesn't trust us, den she doesn't expect us t' trust her. What if she's afraid we won't help her?" The Cajun thought for a moment, "Maybe we can't help her." He shrugged.

"You're not telling me something," Logan raised an eyebrow. Remy looked to the sky for a moment, pondering. In his recollection of that night, Rogue was different. She had been terrified of something; vulnerable, upset, she sobbed on him, she—

"Hey guys," Dallas interrupted. Remy sat up straight, taking another drag. Logan nodded. "What's up?" She asked.

"Not much petite." The thief breathed out, giving her a small grin.

"Where have you been?" Quizzed Logan - not wanting to continue the topic in her presence.

"Oh, you know," she slipped in a chair beside them, "just out and about." She took in her surroundings, "so this is what summer at the Xavier Institute is like huh?"

Logan chuckled, "the kids have been practically begging for a heated swimming pool for years now." He shook his head, "last summer, they tried to heat it themselves," without warning he became grumpy, "it was a pain in the ass to fix." Shouting captured the three's interest.

Kitty Pryde stood at the edge of the pool, her voice bellowing down to some of the younger boys, "You guys are like, _so_ gross!" She was knotting the back of her swim top heatedly. Logan, Gambit, and Dallas could only suppose one of the new recruits deemed it comical to try and untie it.

"Ahhh," the Cajun flicked his cigarette away, "T' be young again."

Logan snorted, "You're twenty-one."

"Remy," Dallas interjected in a quiet voice, "do you think we could talk?" The two men looked to her.

"Uhh," he shrugged with a smile, "sure. I don't see why not."

"In private," her eyes shifted to Logan, who arched his eyebrow in response.

"I can take a hint," Wolverine stood up retrieving a cigar from a pocket. He adjusted his jeans, wiped his temple, and snuffed his nose, "watch the rugrats," his voice was harsh –snatching up a zippo lighter from the tabletop. He moseyed off.

"What's up Dal'?" The Cajun leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms to the hazy sky.

"I've been thinking," her voice was calm.

"Uh huh," he was watching the younger recruits, listening to her.

"About us," she continued.

_Us,_ he thought, _did she just say us?_

"And," her pace quickened, "I think we should take things to a more official level. You know?" he raised an eyebrow, "make things official." She was beaming now – her violet eyes glistened gleefully.

"Uhm," he swallowed, "I'm sorry fille, but did y' just say we should 'make t'ings official'?"

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down to her demonstrative hands; they moved anxiously with every word.

What in the world was she talking about? Gambit's face flushed; had he led this girl on? He breezed through his thoughts briskly, picking for _any_ time he may have given her some sort of impression he was interested. _Well, I do flirt sometimes,_ he mulled, chewing his lip. Sometimes was obviously an understatement.

"Dallas," he sat up straight, a lump bunching in his throat, "I think maybe y' got the wrong impression from me…"

"What do you mean?" She ruffled her brow, sweeping some black hair from her view. Her voice was low; quiet, "we've spent hours together, practically days," she sighed nervously, "I just thought, you liked me."

"I do," he smiled, touching the top of her hand gently, "y' a great girl. I just," he paused, "not in that way."

"Well," she sat back, her tone laced with a hint of impatience, "so I'm like the _other_ girls?"

_What the fuck is she talking about?_ He raised an eyebrow; a small chuckle escaped his breath, "Dallas. What are y' talking abo—"

"All the other girls you'll charm and sleep with." She snapped. "Everybody talks about it." The Dutch girl crossed her arms, "I should've listened to them when they said you were a 'pompous ass who loved to play the game just for a good fuck'."

"Whoa!" He drew his arms up in defense, "I have _no_ idea who y' been talkin' to, but—"

"Everybody," her tone was curt. An awkward silence would have lingered between the two hadn't the rest of the team behind them not been yelling, splashing, and laughing.

The Cajun's brain digested what the new recruit just said. Did everybody really think that? He had a reputation for charming the ladies, but he didn't think it was as malicious as Dallas Shadii was making it sound. He _had_ upset a lot of women in his time – one night stands – never calling them again. He swallowed, was this defining him now?

"I'm not that kind of girl you know," she glared at him, hurt.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, "I, I, I didn't mean to lead you on. Really." He scratched his arm, "I don't know what people have been telling you, but I'm not that kind of a person. " He lied to himself. Maybe what he meant to say was, _I'm not that kind of person anymore_ – not since a certain Southern Belle began to steal his heart.

But what Gambit wouldn't realize for quite some time, was that he did not lead DeSchaduw on. In fact, he'd been _nothing but_ friendly and appropriate towards her. The foreign girl misinterpreted his gracious gestures and welcoming character as his being interested in her. Perhaps six months ago, this may have been the case – but not now – now… things were different. Of course, the foreign young woman was accustomed to usually getting her way.

"I thought maybe you were attracted to me—"

"Well," he laughed, beckoning his hands in her direction – motioning to her skimpy swim suit. It clung onto her fit body for dear life, "of course I'm attracted t' you. Who wouldn't be?"

A toothy smile overwhelmed her, "I'm attracted to you too. I really like you Remy," she touched the top of his hand – instinctively, the Cajun jerked away. This snapped the Dutch girl back to reality with a grimace.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; things had become tremendously awkward. "We're going to be even better friends in the future," the thief almost cringed at what he'd just said. _Didn't I used to be good at letting the girls down smoothly?_ He thought. "Right?"

Dallas pursed her lips, annoyed, "right," she pouted irately – hoping he wouldn't catch hurt in her voice. It was a bit obvious though, since her accent crackled a bit.

Remy LeBeau's gaze had been suddenly lost – he was staring past her now. Dallas cocked her head to the side, allowing her eyes to peer over her own shoulder inconspicuously. It was Rogue; the Southerner had slid open the kitchen door leading to the back porch. She was clad in a scanty bikini of her own – black of course. Her hair was tied up into a pony tail. The new recruit shot a look at the gawking Cajun. His mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes examining the X-woman.

_So_, she mentally growled to herself, _Rogue, is what's hindering my relationship with Remy. He's so busy trying to get her attention, he doesn't even notice what's right under his nose!_ She pondered more - there was no way she was going to let this brat ruin things for her. Without warning, her shadow slapped a glass off the table. She and Remy jumped at the crack it made; the beer went sailing through the air.

"What the hell!" Gambit jumped up, just missing the spatter.

"I'm sorry!" Dallas cried, not realizing she'd done it at first.

"Control that thing," the Cajun growled sarcastically, signaling at her shadow.

_I wish,_ she heaved a sigh despondently.

Meanwhile, Rogue scanned the outdoors nervously, hopeful that she wouldn't have to outright ask everyone to be cautious around her. For once, she wanted things to seem 'normal' – the goth sought to know what it would be like to pretend nobody was afraid of her bare skin.

"Rogue!" Kitty called from the water! Her face was filled with joy at the sight of her roommate.

The Southerner waved, walking over and easing herself into the warm water on the pool steps. She thought it best to still separate herself somewhat from the group.

"Surprised to see you join us," teased Kurt.

"Surprised to see your fur doesn't clog up the filter," she mocked him in return. "Are ya'll going to play a game of volleyball or what?"

"Yes!" Kitty and Kurt cheered simultaneously.

"We need to get some practice in so we're amazing at it when we visit Hawaii." Bobby called from behind them. "That means you have to play too Rogue."

"What," she shook her head, "Ah don't think that's a good idea guy—"

"Oh come on!" Shadowcat pouted, "We got you out here. Can't you like, indulge us just a wee bit more?" She crossed her fingers behind her back.

Rogue sighed, "Alright."

Iceman cupped his hands around his mouth, "Remy, Dallas," he shouted, "come on!"

The Southerner brought her gaze to the table that was tucked away on the outskirts of the pool ground; near the institute gardens. Gambit and DeSchaduw sat together, now looking towards the crowd of teens. She felt annoyed for a moment, crossing her arms. _Go figure,_ she looked Dallas up and down,_ that swamp-rat would want to charm the bikini off that girl._ An un-lady like snort escaped her, drawing a few raised eyebrows and looks.

"What?" She grumbled, turning a quick blush of red.

The two were walking toward the swimming area now; Remy rubbed at his arm awkwardly. Dallas gleamed – she was overachieving at her playing of the happy card.

"Tell me how to play!" She smiled, slipping into the water towards Kitty Pryde.

"C'est une belle nuit," Remy drawled. Rogue ignored the Cajun, moving to dip her toes in the pool water on the steps. The thief had predicted this, gliding near her carefully, "what I mean t' say is. You look gorgeous, Cherie." She took a deep breath, looking over to him.

She had been so certain, so sure, that this man was foul; Rogue found him distasteful, annoying, arrogant, and too proud. But today, his words didn't eat away at her nerves; his cocky smirk didn't draw irritation from her. Remy LeBeau was a womanizer, a flirt, a jerk – and even though she had all the reasons in the world to find his suggestions insincere – she knew he was. She'd provided him the opportunity to steal a kiss the night before, and he'd pulled away _from her._ She remembered this. Would she ever tell him she had such recollections of that drunken mess? Unlikely.

"Yeah right," she scoffed, but the clever X-man spotted the tiny smile that appeared while she turned away from him. His heart skipped a beat; a toothy grin spread across his face.

"I didn't know you had that." Shadowcat broke free of the instructions she'd been giving to Dallas – the direction of her finger indicated she was talking about the Southerner's navel ring. The goth glanced downward, Remy, still taking in the girl's figure, also followed to her belly button. Rogue quickly covered the sparkling jewel with a gloved hand.

She was bright red, "Ah did that a long time ago."

"It's cool," the valley girl was in awe; she swam closer.

"Don't," Rogue stepped backward, up a step and a half, "be careful," her voice was quiet.

Dallas raised an eyebrow, _what's her problem?_ She asked herself. In the past week of her stay, the Dutch girl hadn't given the time of day to the Southerner. For all she knew, the goth might've been able to fly or even throw rainbows out of her fingertips. DeSchaduw rolled her eyes, she didn't know what Rogue's powers were, but she didn't exactly care either.

Kitty brought her arms up defensively, "It's okay Rogue. I was like, being careful."

"Relax petite," Gambit was waist deep in crystal clear water now. "Everybody gon' be real careful," his voice was louder now. The thief turned to the rest of the group, "right!"

Nods and happy smiles comforted the Southerner. With care and attention, she positioned herself on the team she'd been assigned.

"Ready?" Bobby Drake called from the other side. Cheers, impatient cries, and splashes filled the night air. The game began.

Rogue was having more fun than she had since she was a kid! Her heart thumped and her competitiveness was more alive than ever. Her team had been winning, and she'd discovered her hidden ability to serve the ball. Her teammates had kept her feeling secure, being aware and careful of her mutation. By the end of the game, she and her fellow players had a close victory – but triumphed!

"Aren't you glad you played Rogue?" Kitty Pryde, wrapped in a thick blue beach towel, smiled at her.

Everybody had left the pool vacant, claiming their towels and chattering about the exciting game – the future rematch!

"Yeah," the Southerner found herself agreeing with the perky younger girl; this was uncommon.

Dallas Shadii's voice was unpleasant to Rogue's ears, "Rogue," she called.

The X-woman cringed, preparing herself to face the new recruit, "yeah?"

"I just wanted to say, good game—"but her artificial compliment broke off. The Dutch girl had ignorantly positioned her ungloved hand on Rogue's naked shoulder. The touch of skin on skin ignited a hurricane of thoughts, ideas, memories, powers, scenes, and feelings from the Southerner.

In response, Dallas released a meek shriek; collapsing seemingly lifelessly on the damp pavement. Rogue gripped her face, squeezing her eyes shut as the visions and voices consumed her.

"Dallas!" Kitty shouted, unable to catch her in time.

"Rogue!" Within seconds Gambit was by their side. "Rogue, are you—"

"Don't," She shouted, "don't touch me!" Her arm shot outward, swinging for him to get away. Instead, she'd brushed his bare fingertips – sending what felt like a tiny electric shock, through his body.

He cried out, fumbling back with his other hand gripping at the forearm.

"Remy," Kitty reached to him now, noticing his slight sway, "are you—"

"I'm fine," he shook his head, mildly dazed. "She just stung me; that's all. Just brushed me. Go make sure DeScaduw is alright." He released his tingly arm, trying to comfort Rogue again. "Chere," he stammered, "tell me. What can I do!"

"Get away," she spat, pulling at her hair. She felt profound anger fill her; her eyes flickered a violet color. "Get away!" The abnormal feeling was overwhelming – she felt so mad – but not mad at Remy LeBeau, who by now, was stumbling a few feet away from her, but at everything. The memories were all she could see now – it became clear that the world was being seen through Dallas' eyes.

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_The son slammed a fist on the table in front of her, "Listen freak—"_

_Freak? Did he just call her a freak? The bliss that had been keeping her afloat since she'd arrived quickly melted away. _

"—_Bud!" The dad snapped, clearing his throat, "that's enough. We're not trying to offend you Miss Shadii, we just can't offer you a position at this time."_

"_But thanks for considering us," Bud, still too close for comfort, smiled tauntingly._

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

"_They can't do this to me," she kicked a rock, tucking her hands into her pockets. "This time around, things were supposed to be different."_

"_Listen, it's not my problem, "a strange and distant voice snapped, "Fine! I guess we'll see you in court." It was Bud Thomas. Dallas clenched her fists._

* * *

******FLASH**

* * *

_Looking down and out a window of the football field announment booth, she could see the boy walking across the dark football field. Then Dallas flipped a switch turning the lights on.  
_

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_On her knees, eyes tightly closed, she now grit her teeth together. In each hand, she gripped the grass beneath her firmly. Her shadow skated from her; a black snake in the shape of a woman. Before she knew it, the darkness danced at the boy's feet – taking them from beneath him. He let out a cry, his phone slipping from grasp._

_"What the hell are yo—" but he couldn't cry. The black figure plastered him to the ground helplessly; sealing his mouth._

_"Just a freak," the figure had no mouth, but its echoed voice hissed spitefully. It began smothering him now – muffling his whimpers. Reaching behind itself, the gloomy stature revealed a blade. "I love carving…" it teased._

_He let out a stifled scream as the knife feed into his flesh. Had the shadow a face, he thought sure a despicable smirk would be seen across it.  
_

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_DeScaduw slung the boy's maimed body into nearby bushes, wiping tears from her eyes. She peered down at the cell phone he'd dropped before – it was in her blood soaked hands – damaged also._

"_I didn't ask for this!" She sneered; snuffles transforming into sobs. The girl was slamming her fists into the ground now. She sat back helplessly, rubbing away at her stinging violet eyes. "I did," she snuffed, shaking her head, "I told myself what I wanted." Her glare darted to the black figure on the ground, mimicking her every move – "This is your fault," she snarled, voice hoarse. Dallas sat pitifully on her knees, "there has o be a way, a way out of this… this isn't my fault." A sudden voice got her attention. Rising to her feet and slipping back into the darkness, DeSchaduw saw… a girl. "A witness," she breathed – relief conquering her._

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_"Telekinetic?" A Cajun accent._

"_No."_

"_Then how?" He scrunched his brow. _

_She smiled playfully, "watch again, watch closely." _

"_How about that," he chuckled. The shadow blew him a kiss before reaching for another flower; picking it apart as if it were asking 'he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.'_

"_He loves me," she grinned. "What about you Remy? They call you Gambit, don't they? What are your," she wriggled her fingers as he did before, "super powers." He was too cute; Dallas knew she had to snag this charmer up – all for herself. _

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

"_Yes," she paused, "I have a lead on the Bud Thomas murder case. A student at the Xavier Institute names Rogue. I'm certain she was involved," DeScahduw listened to the officer on the other line, crossing her legs in the rec room at the mansion, "armed and dangerous? Could be…"_

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_"Didn't y' hear me?" The sound of a crash rang through his ears as the blonde before him screamed. Tears ran from her blue eyes. "I Don' want it anymore Remy… I can't do dis no more…" Falling to her knees, the young girl sobbed. _

_"Belle, I swear! I didn—" _

_"Y' swear?" Her hands moved from in front of her eyes; they were filled with anger, "Y' swear Remy! You promise? Well, dat's all y' ever do t' me Remy! I can't take dis anymore.." _

_"Bella—" _

_"It's over," she cried, "Get out!" She chucked a nearby book at him, violently. The Cajun slammed the door behind him, his own tears flooding his unkempt cheeks._

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

_"But sir, I really need this job—" Dallas' voice again._

* * *

**FLASH**

* * *

"I should've listened to them when they said you were a 'pompous ass who loved to play the game just for a good fuck'."

"Whoa!" Gambit drew his arms up in defense, "I have _no_ idea who y' been talkin' to, but—"

"Everybody," her tone was curt.

His heart felt heavy, and for some reason, he kept thinking of Rogue. Did Rogue think that? He felt sick.

* * *

**FLASH: BACK TO REALITY**

* * *

"Stripes? Stripes can you hear me?"

"L, L, Logan?" Hearing the sound of a steady beep, the Southerner forced her drowsy eyes to open. The white room was filled with a few people; the Professor, Logan, Beast, and Kurt. "What happened?" She groaned.

"You passed out." Wolverine frowned, "Had an overdose in life force."

"What?" Rogue looked around nervously, "who else—"

"Just Dallas," Beast's tone was calm and gentle. "She will be fine, just shaken."

"She didn't know about your powers," the Professor interjected, "it seems that she meant to get your attention by touching you on the shoulder. She didn't let go because she didn't understand what was going on."

"Did I get anybody else?" Rogue's eyes grew lustrous – tears threatening escape.

Logan sighed, "well," he shook his head, "you grazed Gambit. But he'd fine."

_That explains the Remy psyche,_ she thought to herself.

"Remy is quite alright," the professor assured her, "just a little shaken. Dallas woke up this morning. We explained to her what happened. She was surprised, but eagerly awaiting your consciousness."

"How are _you_, Rogue?" Beast took her gloved hand, checking her pulse, "do you feel okay?"

"Ah'm fine." She lied, ignoring the voices and aching from within her head. "Where's Gambit?"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took a little longer than the others. Thanks again for reading!**

**Review Responses: **

**Wolf Skater - Sorry about all the denial. It kills me to write it; trust me. Hope this one was ok! :)**

**Treegona - Great to hear from you again! No worries on the late'ness. It's so difficult not to just write the words, "and then they kissed without anything bad ever happening, ran into the bedroom and made lots of babies, and lived happily ever after. the end." ... I love the hopeless romance they share3 Thanks again for the feedback! :)**


	17. Dazed and Confused

**Chapter 17: **

**Dazed and Confused**

* * *

The Xavier Institute was fantastically calm when most of the students were off to their designated Bayville School. Rogue hadn't yet missed a day of classes since her stay, and would never have guessed that the campus could be _this_ tranquil and composed. Had she been feeling better, the experience would be much more enjoyable. But alas, the Southerner was wrapped up in her blankets bounded by the darkness of her bedroom. She had been feeling a little _off_ since the incident last night - to say the least. Unfamiliar dreams and memories poked away at her brain. Once and awhile Remy LeBeau's psyche would mentally tickle her with his thoughts and words. Rogue found this, in particular, to be displeasing – she could have survived without a glimpse of the Cajun's sexual encounters and such.

Her attempt at a nap had ended in a violent nightmare, thrusting her out of the unconscious, and into the silence that was the mansion on a mid-morning Monday. The Southerner wiped beads of sweat from her brow, her breaths jagged.

_It was just a dream_, she sighed, _I wasn't at Bayville High, and Bud wasn't being attacked._ Her heartbeat gradually eased its pace. She had been dreaming about the night of the Bayville High murder again – this time – she could see through the aggressor's eyes; towering over the young man as he pleaded for mercy. But had these been dreams? Thoughts? Memories?

She huffed a lock of white from her view, pushing the bustle of blankets from atop her body. The southerner was quickly rummaging through her backpack – searching for a notebook, scrap paper, anything. "Ah need to start writing this stuff down," she spoke softly amongst herself, locating a notebook with the word 'Math' scrawled across the front. Her fingers breezed through the pages, finding a sufficient section near the back. Rogue closed her eyes, recalling as much detail as she could; the goth began to document the chaotic scenarios running through her mind.

* * *

LATER THAT MORNING

* * *

The steel table was cold beneath the X-woman's bottom. The professor upon visiting her earlier that morning and discussing her mental and physical status suggested she consult Dr. Hank McCoy as soon as possible. "Just to make sure that nothing unusual is going on with you," he'd said with a friendly smile. Now the girl found herself at the sickbay, undergoing basic physical assessments from the ape-like man.

She watched as Beast peered over his glasses at a computer screen, "interesting," he mumbled, turning back to her. "Overall Rogue," he walked to her, "how are you feeling?"

"Physically fine," she chewed her lip, "but, after absorbing Dallas, everything has been feeling kind of fuzzy."

"Is that normal?" He queried.

"When Ah absorb people?"

He nodded. The Southerner shrugged before she replied, "Ah guess but, Ah don't know – usually things start to sort themselves out a little bit. It's difficult ta distinguish between what's real and what's not."

"Such as," he probed.

Did she really want to tell him the things that were coming up from draining Dallas Shadii? Rogue could barely piece some of the scenarios together herself– she couldn't tell if her own thoughts and interpretations were altering the absorbed ones!

"Rogue?" He was waving a furry blue hand in front of her face, "are you okay?"

"Sorry!" She snapped back to reality. "Umm… well… Ah'm just getting bits and pieces, which is normal. But, when I try to sleep, I have dreams too."

"Is this just Dallas' psyche?"

The Southerner considered this for a moment. There hadn't been any bizarre activity with Remy's psyche – things seemed pretty normal, "Remy's is fine. Maybe less material than usual?" She seemed to be questioning herself.

The X-man stroked his chin curiously, "well," he began, "you _did_ only brush Gambit. Perhaps you've gotten a _infinitesimal_ sample of his mind." Her raised eyebrow prompted a more elaborate explanation, "What I'm saying is that, since you didn't touch Mr. LeBeau long enough, it is conceivable that you barely got much of his life force or cognitive identity at all. That may be why there seems to be, 'less material', as you said, coursing through your thoughts."

"It's enough," she grunted, rubbing at her temple.

Beast carried on, ignoring her statement. He was now shinning a light into her eyes, analyzing the cilliary muscle response. "Good," he sat back on a stool, retrieving another tool from a nearby table. "Say ahh," he mock-opened his mouth, revealing some intimidating fangs.

"Ahh," her jaw stretched.

"Have you thought about talking to DeSchaduw about the recollections?"

The Southerner snorted, "Yeah right."

"It may prove to be a rewarding approach." Hank turned his back to her making a motion with his massive hand urging her to explain.

"We don't really get along."

"That seems silly," he chuckled, "you barely know one another. Maybe this is just what you two girls need to put aside some differences." Rogue didn't poke fun at the idea, deciding it would be just better to end the discussion. There was no way she was conferring with somebody who might have been _the_ murderer of Bud Thomas. Her heart seemed to skip a beat. It was the first time she'd truly considered the idea. To a certain extent, these scenes playing out in her mind must be true. That means Dallas is involved in a whole lot more than she'd ever anticipated.

"Normally the abilities Ah get when absorbin' folk, will fade in an hour or two," and this was a genuine concern. "But DeSchaduw's powers, they just seem to flicker on and off. Ah can't seem to control it."

"Interesting," he bunched his brow.

"And at times," she paused, "Ah feel so weird. Like, Ah got the flu or something."

Hank's voice grew a little more firm, "I thought you said physically you were well?"

"Ah guess, not entirely. It's a quick shift from feeling sick to feeling fine." She swallowed.

He walked to a counter and back to her, holding out a thermometer in his blue palm. Obediently placing it in her mouth and under her tongue, the Southerner resumed her – slightly impaired – speech, "last night, Ah wanted something to drink but didn't feel like getting it. Well, next thing Ah know, there's a glass full'a Sprite floating in front of my face. Turns out it was my shadow that got it for me."

"This wasn't intentional?" He queried, placing a pair of spectacles on as he flipped over a piece of paper on a clip board.

"No. They go on 'n off—"He plucked the temperature meter from her mouth; reading it as she pulled back some hair behind her ear. The goth sighed, "Ah can't figure it out Beast; It's like my self-control has been involuntarily turned off sometimes. When I wish it was darker, my shadow turns off the lights; when I get annoyed, it pushes somebody; it's like it has a mind of its own, but bases its actions on my personal desires—" She stopped speaking abruptly, blinking in thought.

_One of those memories was of DeSchaduw implying she didn't want to hurt that kid. Her shadow was the one that attacked him. But then why was she going along with it?_ Her temple throbbed again.

"Rogue, are you sure you're alright," Beast looked very concerned. "You have a slight fever."

"Ah guess," she heaved a deep breath, "Ah just have a lot on my mind." Sniggering at her own joke, the Southerner met gaze with Hank McCoy again.

"Perhaps you just haven't developed a routine to manipulate Dallas' gift yet," this seemed like a good possibility. Her train of thought crashed, noticing the needle he'd suddenly been yielding.

"What's that for!" She choked.

Beast lowered his eyes, his tone calm, "it would be in your best interest to allow me to retrieve a sample." She watched him simply touch the tip of a needle, on foot to her, "we haven't yet recorded blood levels when your powers have been activated. It may help to unveil some unanswered questions." How could she argue with that?

The goth nodded, looking the other way to avoid eye-contact with the syringe.

"Hey Beast, I have something important t' show—"The Cajun stopped in the doorway, his eyes falling on Rogue. He hadn't yet seen her since the accident. "Chere," He observed as her face responded to the hypodermic breaching skin. Gambit suddenly remembered the box in his hands, slipping it behind his back.

"Remy," Beast withdrew; the vial was now filled with crimson fluid. "You have something for me?"

"Never mind," he stammered quickly, approached the two. The thief cleared his throat with an awkward smile, "How are you?" He asked Rogue – curiosity had been eating away at him since he'd heard she was awake the night before.

The Southerner disregarded him, "what do you think that can help ya'll find?"

"Take three of these, "Hank began, handing her a small bottle, "We're not sure what we might find. But, I will let you know first thing, if anything essential comes up." He ran his hands through some water at a nearby sink, "In the meantime, keep track of these flu-like spasms you've undergone."

"Flu-like spasms?" Remy reiterated, looking at Hank and then back to Rogue. "Are you okay?"

"Ah'm fine," she grumbled, not wanting to chatter with the younger X-man quite yet. "Thank you Beast," she smiled, hopping off the table. The goth turned to the exit, taking two steps before feeling her arm tugged slightly.

Remy's gloved hand cupped her wrist, "what's wrong?"

"Not right now swamp-rat," she jerked her arm back, hurriedly departing from the sickbay.

"What do you need to show me?" Quizzed Beast, detecting the object the Cajun had so un-cleverly been shielding. "Something you don't want a certain someone to see?" Remy noticed the larger man eyeing Rogue as she walked into the elevator.

Gambit shifted the box to the front of him, its contents still shrouded by the cardboard. "Can you help me?" His fingertips pried the container open.

Beast marveled at the vials inside, "Remarkable," he breathed, "Charles allowed you to acquire these?"

The thief ran a hand through his shaggy hair, shifting where he stood, "well," his eyes wandered in thought. Beast selected one at random, nearing it to his face for closer examination. "I've been doin' a lot of research mon ami, and," he paused, "the Professor thinks I'm too emotionally hung up on these," his hand beckoned to the contents of the box, "and, I know this can be really dangerous. But I think it's crazy to not _try_ and see if something can come of this."

The blue X-man pondered for a moment, his brain digesting Remy LeBeau's messy explanation, "what you mean to say is that Xavier didn't authorize you to have this in your possession." His expression fell stern.

"I know my reasons might be misread," the Cajun continued, "but if you could just hear m' out. I really want to try and make this work. How can we sit around and just ignore that this," he snatched the vial from the hairy man, pointing fiercely at it, "_this_, exists! I can't keep it on my conscience, and I don't want to. Professor thinks it's too risky, that my thoughts are too crazy; maybe I am crazy homme, but—"

"A love that defies all logic is sometimes the most logical thing in the world," Hank McCoy took off his glasses, his voice soft in thought. A silence clung to the air for a few moments, "Alright Gambit," the doctor nodded, "I'll work with it. We'll see what we find." The Cajun breathed a sigh of relief, "under _one_ condition," Hank eyed him intently, "you tell Charles."

"He's never—"

"Every accomplishment starts with a decision to try," Beast smiled gently, raising a finger as to emphasize his point. This only earned a frustrated sigh from the infamous charmer.

* * *

MEANWHILE; 10 MINS LATER

* * *

Rogue tilted her head backwards, allowing the capsules that hank had given her to slide down her throat. The water didn't seem to help any. She made a face at the bitter flavor, squeezing her eyes shut.

* * *

_Flash!_

* * *

_"Relax petite," he smiled, kissing the girl's neck. "Gambit gon' take it nice and slow. Jus' for you…"_

_She was a beautiful stranger, bouncy brown curls enveloping her face and cascading down to her back. She stared up at him; her gorgeous locks sprawled out across the sheets and pillows._

"_Oh Remy…" She whimpered "Just—"_

* * *

_Flash!_

* * *

"Rogue!" DeSchaduw snapped; she was inches from the Southerner.

The X-woman shook her head violently, dazed and confused. Where was she? Oh yeah, the kitchen. Her eyes traveled down to her hand, where the pill bottle lay.

"Do you _always_ go into an alternate universe?" The Dutch girl sneered, giving Rogue a strange gaze.

"What are you talking about?" The goth groaned for a moment, touching her fingertips to her forehead.

"I've been saying your name for nearly a minute!" Dallas scoffed with an arched eyebrow. She ignored her cynicism, setting the bottle down on the counter and locating the bag she'd tossed on the countertop minutes ago. Rogue salvaged her notebook from the clutter, setting it open beside a nearby newspaper. The Southerner jotted down the brief and unpleasant memory of Gambit's that had just surfaced her brain.

"What's that?" DeSchaduw hovered over the goth's left shoulder, getting a glimpse of her scribbling.

"Nothing," Rogue slapped the book shut, giving the new recruit a traditional glare. Dallas rolled her eyes, strolling away in the direction of the refrigerator. Rogue's eyes locked onto a distraction as she lifted her new 'journal'. She yanked the newspaper from its place – half poking out from beneath the notebook.

'Thomas and Thomas Central Processing: Help Wanted: Computer software engineer'

Rogue slowly brought her green eyes up to study Dallas Shadii, who was hunting for something to eat. The Southerner held her breath, flipping some pages back in the book.

_Bingo,_ her brain shouted, a small grin spreading on her face. The same company name, belonging to the Thomas family, was squiggled throughout her printed recollections. Bud Thomas and his father worked at this organization – conducted interviews… _these aren't dreams!_ She thought, her heart beating a little harder than usual. _They're memories._

"Dallas," Rogue's voice was hushed.

"Yeah, what?" Her violet eyes met with the Southerner's. "Is something wrong?" she invited herself to saunter slowly in the X-woman's direction, feeling suspicion tug at her stomach. She observed as Rogue delicately slid the folded up newspaper page into the notebook she'd been writing in – realizing the goth may not have meant to breathe her name.

Rogue recovered from the slip, "how's job searching going?"

Dallas flipped a purple lock from over her shoulder, crossing her arms as her eyes narrowed in skepticism, "fine."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of the Southerner's mouth as she retorted calmly, "there's an ad here for a computer software engineer," she beckoned her hand toward the rest of the newspaper on the counter, "Thomas and Thomas Central Processing. Ah'm sure that would be _perfect_," her Southern drawl grew thicker, "for ya." DeSchaduw's heart skipped a beat, sensing the inkling in the X-woman's voice.

She kept her composure, "that's okay," she smiled mockingly, "I've an interview this afternoon." She was lying, and Rogue knew it, "In fact," she glanced at the wall clock, "I should get myself together. You know, dazzle up my resume." They circled one another at a snail's pace, until they had swapped positions – Dallas now more nearer to the door. "See you later, Roguey."

The goth watched as the Dutch girl flipped her black curls over a shoulder, strolling out the door and into the corridor. After all this time, she'd been living amongst her enemy; reasonably likely, the Bayville High murderer. Worse yet, this girl was trying to get _her_ accused of the whole thing! At least, that's what these memoirs have been telling her.

Rogue caressed her temple, _does she know exactly how my powers work? Wouldn't she be a little more nervous about me absorbing her if she did?_ She was suddenly a bit anxious, _I need to watch my back – what a shrewd and devious bitch._

* * *

Slowly taking a seat in the chair that Mr. Thomas offered her, Rogue returned a smile. "Thank you for seeing me today Mr. Thomas."

The older man smiled back, his face filled still with grave sadness. He studied the young lady for a moment; she was clad in professional attire – maybe in her mid-twenties.

Rogue had done a great job of raiding Jean Grey's closet and "borrowing" some useful dress clothes. She wanted to look older, and hoped such would be enough for employees at Thomas and Thomas to take her seriously. It was certainly adequate; the Southerner had taken a short tour already with the company's CEO, and was now sitting across from him preparing for an interview.

"Can you outline some of your experience for me?" He queried in a tired voice. In her sponged memories, the goth recalled Mr. Thomas as being a lot more upbeat and youthful. It was obvious his son's recent passing was taking its toll.

"Certainly," she drawled, "Ah worked since my college graduation as head of the IT department at Glitch Computer Inc. in Caldecott County Missisippi. Ah graduated with a major in computer science and a minor in American Literature." Lying was fun sometimes, "Ah'm moving up here to be closer to a sick family member, and thought this place seemed perfect for my skills and experience."

"Where did you go to college?" He queried.

"Uhm," she stumbled for a moment, trying to remember the university she'd memorized, "Blue, Blue," she cleared her throat, "Blue—"

"Blue Mountain College?" His eyes brightened slightly, "my nephew goes there."

_You've got to be kidding me,_ Rogue mentally kicked herself.

"Really," she smiled large and awkwardly.

"Do you happen to know Dr. Day?"

She shook her head, "Ah, don't, really, remember. Heh," the Southerner took a deep breath, "It's been awhile."

The older man seemed to chew on this idea fleetingly, "you seem like a great candidate for our company. Do you mind meeting with Jerry? He's the head of our human resources department. We usually require some questions and a background check before we formally hire."

The goth nervously nodded, "of course."

The X-woman in disguise found herself being led from the seventh to the fifth floor; into a room filled with busy individuals clicking and clacking away on their keyboards while staring off unenthusiastically at their computer monitors. Jerry was a traditionally nerdy looking kind of guy – thick black glasses, slim fit pin-striped dress shirt, and baggy slacks pulled up to his navel. His nervousness around her seemed contagious, as she developed a slightly anxious feeling herself.

"My office is back here," Jerry looked back to her as they walked on. His cheeks were pink with excitement – it's not too often he works with pretty young ladies.

"So, everybody that applies for a job here has a file?" she quizzed in his direction over the noise surrounding them.

"Yes. They are all kept under record."

"Even though it's just an interview?"

"Well," he laughed, "we do need to know who we may be hiring."

"Are they saved?"

Pondering a moment the man nodded in reply, "well, yes – it's for the protection of the organization really. So that if we're ever accused of something such as," he mulled briefly, "discrimination perhaps; then we can prove that we did a thorough and equal assessment of the individual. It shows that we're fair in our judgment."

Rogue remembered the feelings of hurt and anger Dallas felt at being rejected for being a mutant, _yeah right,_ she thought. She couldn't blame the Dutch girl entirely for her emotions.

"Knowing every detail of a future client or staff member's life may sound a little too personal, but I assure you," he pushed the door open to his office, "it is all a matter of safety, good production, and verifying integrity."

Motioning her understanding with a natural nod, Rogue took mental notes of the conversation. "These files, where do you get them from?"

Jerry's perky grin fell, his voice laced with vague irritation, "I can't answer that. Why all these types of questions?"

"I'm sorry," she shook her head, "Ah'm just amazed that people can find out so much about somebody."

The corner of his mouth turned upward, "with the click of a button."

Rogue felt somewhat uneasy, shifting where she stood, "Ah just, want to make sure my personal life isn't as accessible to the general public. Ah mean, there's nothing to hide from an employer, but it's nobody else's business."

"I can agree with that." Jerry sat down. "I wouldn't worry about it Ms. Rogue; our security is tremendous here, "a proud smirk plastered his face, "It would pretty much take a thieving master mind to get through the doors in the first place – let alone penetrate our file defense system." She granted to nerdy young man some faux information; social security, phone number, age, etcetera – and hurried back to the institute.

_Thieving master mind huh?_ She thought to herself. The Southerner strolled into the recreation room, aware of Gambit's presence. He sat on the couch - alone - flipping aimlessly through the television channels.

Rogue smirked, "Ah can do that."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has subscribed to my updates and/or has listed me or my story under their favorites. Your feedback is very much appreciated and really fuels my writing ambitions. I know there wasn't much R & R in this chapter – but the next should (optimistically) make up for it. I am grateful for any honest criticism – good or bad. Cheers!**

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – It's difficult to tell if that's a good or bad thing, haha. I hope this story is up to par with your expectations. More Romy to come! Thanks for the consistent reviews – it's very encouraging. Looking forward to the next chapter in Love Rectangles!**

**SPARK187 – If you're **_**just**_** starting to read the rest of the fic, I'm unsure if you'll see this or not, but, thank you! It starts off a bit slow, but personally, I feel like it picks up toward the middle and end. Hopefully it will meet your expectations! Thanks for the review! **


	18. Cake

**Chapter 18: **

**Cake**

* * *

Rogue leaned up against the doorway with her shoulder, studying the "thieving mastermind" before her. Gambit was grumbling something to himself about there being 'nothing on television'. His hand would regularly dip into the bag of chips beside him – popping a Dorito into his mouth; crunch crunch crunch. She crossed her arms, heaving a soft sigh. After a moment or two, the Southerner realized this thieving mastermind wouldn't notice her amide his munchies. She delicately cleared her throat, successfully obtaining his attention. The Cajun twisted his head in her direction, snacking on another chip as he did so.

"Feel any better chere?" His words were somewhat muffled by his chewing. She gave him a casual shrug, still tilted against the wooden doorframe. Quiet lingered - Remy now eyed her suspiciously. After a moment or two, he returned his attention to the screen. He had been slouching across the sofa, resting his arm on the top backside of it. He shifted, feeling her eyes stare holes into the rear of his head. Gambit lifted his feet to rest on the coffee table, giving Rogue only another brief glance.

It wasn't long before the Southerner was seated beside him arousing paranoia from the charmer. Remy couldn't help but let his seductive demon eyes travel in her direction. Forgive him for being mistrustful but, since when does Rogue – expert and notorious rejecter of Remy LeBeau – willingly sit beside him. And with a smile?

_Is she going to kill me?_ He thought, _something is not right about this._ He chewed the inside of his cheek, looking back to the TV. He shook his head, _that's silly; she'd have done it with an audience – for sure._

"To what d' I owe the pleasure of your company ma Cherie?"

"Pleasure?" She snorted, "What, Ah _have_ to have a reason to watch TV with you now?"

The Cajun looked slowly to his left, and then to the right. The room was empty – plenty of other seats and things to do. Hell, there was even another TV in the kitchen! "Yeah," he nodded, "actually y' do."

"Okay," the goth finally broke, "Look, Ah need a favor…" The corner of his mouth slightly turned upward into a potential grin.

He chuckled before she could recant, "Y' want _my_ help?" Gambit pressed a finger into his chest, another hearty chortle escaping his lips. Rogue agreed with a trivial nod. He shook his head – a brash smirk flashing across his face. "_Remy LeBeau's_ help, Cherie?" He teased, staring off at the muted television screen.

"Come on swamp-rat," she sneered, "Seriously. Ah need help." The thief detected a hint of despair buried in her tone.

"Alright," he ran a hand through his auburn-brown hair with a sigh, "I'm sorry. I'll be serious."

"You have ta swear, absolutely swear, you're going to keep this to yourself. Ah mean it," she paused shortly, "Ah'll plan your funeral if—"

"Relax," he interrupted smoothly, "I swear on my limitless amount of beauty," one hand shielded his heart, and the other he rose, "dat I can keep a secret." Rogue blinked vacantly at him – restraining herself from smacking him upside the head. Gambit leaned back against the cushions with a smile. "So, share dis _favor_, s'il vous plait."

"Ah need to access some information," she rubbed an imaginary itch on her arm, "it's on this computer at—"

"This ain't gon' be no 'feed my dog while I'm gone' favor, is it?" Her eyes wandered the room – avoiding his at all costs. "So," he cooed, "you need me t' hack into a computer or… something like…," he smiled, "stealin'?"

"No," she scoffed, "not stealing!" Partially afraid he would deny her desperate request for aid, the gothic X-woman continued quickly, "Ah just," she stammered now, "need you to get me into this building so Ah can _borrow_ some information."

"Uh… …huh," Remy smirked, crossing his arms. He wanted her to notice how much genuine enjoyment he was taking in her denial. "Like," his tongue ran along his upper lip, as his eyes twinkled, "stealin'?"

Rogue huffed at the Cajun's teasing smile, "Maybe it sounds a little like stealin'." She mumbled.

"You really think I'll turn y' down for 'borrowing without permission'?" he chuckled. "Wouldn't it be a little hypocritical of a thief to do that," he shook his head, "I'm not gon' tell you 'no' for stealing Rogue." Relief washed over her. "I'll say no because y' can't afford any more problems with the Bayville Police."

"What!" She snapped, "Gambit—"

"Forgive me Chere, mais, I refuse t' get involved in getting you in deeper trouble."

"_Mais_," she mocked his French 'but', "you don't understand!"

"_Mais_…" he lowered his eyes to her, taking his feet off the table and leaning toward her, "I do. I'm not breaking into some building with you to 'borrow' stuff off some computer when you're already a suspect in a _murder_. You need t' lay low, girl." He sat back again.

"Please Remy," she pleaded – much to his surprise. "This is _really_ important in helping me to _not_ be a suspect."

"Perhaps," his voice was hushed, "if you explain to me _why_… then I may be more enthusiastic to service you with my thievery, eh?" The Southerner sat beside him wordless, wondering if explaining her suspicions of Dallas Shadii would be wise or not. He would believe her right? Maybe. The thief bowed toward her again, this time his face drew inches from her own. He was taller than her, larger than her – she shifted uncomfortably, feeling suddenly tiny as he gazed down at her.

"Fine," she felt somewhat conquered.

"Bon," he studied her face momentarily before withdrawing.

"Ah'm pretty sure that DeSchaduw was the anonymous caller to the BPD—"

"Rogue—"Remy interrupted, his voice partially aggravated.

"—let me finish!" The X-woman growled, moving some hair out of her eyes, "Ah've been seeing things through her eyes since the other night." The Cajun was surprised he'd forgotten temporarily that the goth absorbed the shadow manipulator, "Ah think she might've been the one to kill Bud Thomas."

"Did you see it?" He queried, suddenly _very_ interested.

"Not exactly," her voice was quiet, "but, Ah feel her wanting to. Really bad Remy! And then, Ah see him being smothered by something dark and mysterious. It looks like—"

"A shadow?"

"Yeah." Rogue looked around the room again, listening for anybody who may be eavesdropping, "Ah just, need to know if she is who she's saying she is. She hates me—"

"Yeah, about dat," he laughed nervously, "why do you think that?"

"Because she does!"

Remy rolled his eyes, "Chere, is it really enough to pin a _murder_ on you?" He scoffed, "I mean, why would she do that?"

"…because Ah was there." She mumbled timidly.

"What!" He snapped, frightening her for a moment. The Southerner was wide-eyed as the Cajun got a hold of himself. "What is _wrong_ with you girl? Why would you deny knowing anything about this if you were there!" he hissed.

"Ah don't know," she whispered back, "Ah wasn't sure anybody would believe me. I touched the murder weapon Remy, and—"

"Just stop," he grabbed her wrist tightly – she had gone to wisp another lock of hair from her view. "Start from the beginning," he demanded.

"We fought that night. Ah wanted to get away, just to clear my head, to think. Eventually Ah was by the high school and wanted to just explore a little bit. But Ah heard a cry for help," she grew nervous, "Ah ran to the back of the school where the football field lights were on." His silence was enough to encourage her to continue, "Ah didn't see anything. Ah didn't hear anything. It was just… creepy. And then, Ah felt like somebody was watching me. Ah thought somebody was laughing at me – quietly. Just looked around for a minute, and," tears brimmed her eyes, "Ah picked up this weird looking knife."

"You _touched_ it!" He shook his head in disbelief, "why would you do that!"

"Ah wasn't thinking!" Her eyes glared in annoyance as she growled back, "it all happened so fast, and it was scaring me. Something about it terrified me." It was then she noticed his hand was still cupped around her wrist – except now it was a supple grasp. The Southerner pulled away gently, looking back into his eyes, "Ah saw him Gambit."

"And then what?"

"Ah ran," she shrugged.

The two were parked wordlessly on that couch for another ten minutes or so. Rogue replayed the night over and over in her head. She was haunted by it – like a real-life horror film. Gambit was busy digesting the whole situation. It was so much more than he'd anticipated, and he was shocked at how mad he was at her.

"Why the fuck didn't you say anything to me that night?" he spoke in a hard undertone.

"Ah didn't trust you," a simple reply.

"Why wouldn't you trust me?" He sneered in disbelief. "I was _right_ there Rogue. I held you that night. God," he grabbed his head, "I knew it. I _knew_ something was wrong with you."

"Can you blame me?" The goth mocked, "you lied to me! You lied about knowing me. Who does that!"

"You know I care about you—"

"No," she laughed, "Ah don't. Ah see how you treat girls Remy LeBeau. Ah know how expendable we are to you," the X-woman tapped her forehead sarcastically, "Ah've seen through your eyes too, not just DeSchaduw's."

He shook his head, "that night you slept in _my_ bed, I treated you with respect. I took care of you. But you can't trust me because of a mistake I made?"

"Like you had a choice," she snorted, "Ah'm sure you weren't looking to get yourself killed that night; at the hands of Rogue with the help of her powers."

"You'd be surprised," he smiled disdainfully, "just how hard it was for me _not_ to kiss you."

"Oh yeah," she scoffed, "Ah bet that's really hard for Remy LeBeau… not to make a move…"

"_You_," he smirked ironically, "_you_ made the move. _You_ insisted I lay next to you. And _you_," his voice was thick – heavy – he leaned nearer to her again. "You, drew close to me Cherie. You _wanted_ me to kiss you."

"Ah would never—"

"You did," he sat back, looking her straight in the eye. "And I didn't do it," The Cajun sighed softly, as though the idea of not kissing her pained him.

Could he tell she knew? Of course he could. Her cheeks flushed pink.

"I don' want to argue with you Rogue. Alcohol makes us do things we wouldn't normally do. I wasn't going to take advantage of you," his manner was compassionate; "you're different. And you must trust m' to some extent right? I mean, you're telling me now."

"Ah need your help," her voice was cool.

"Better late than never I suppose," Gambit heaved a deep sigh. "Let's see what we can find out, eh?"

* * *

Rogue surprisingly found herself in awe at the skills Remy LeBeau demonstrated. She had always witnessed his fast reflexes and nimble movements in the danger room, but this experience had revealed to her, his abilities at an entirely new level. Thus far, he had successfully out-witted motion sensory alarms, four live guards, motion detection cameras, heat sensors, and pressure alarms. Most in which the Southerner wasn't even aware of until he would hush her and indicate their presence.

"What kind of place is this anyway?" The thief scoffed, astounded at the level of security it contained. It was little bother to him, but normally similar organizations didn't go to such trouble keeping people out.

"What do you mean?" Rogue quizzed curiously in a quiet voice.

"I mean," he looked around, "dey goin' to a lot of trouble to protect whatever it is they be sellin' here. Something else has to be going on—"He put his hand up, signaling silence. They watched from the shadowy corner, as the beam from a flashlight danced against a nearby wall. It wasn't long before a guard was passing by, whistling something catchy to himself. Remy waited until the fat man was out of sight, "what floor is it on?"

"Fifth, Ah think."

"You think," he scoffed, shaking his head, "Oh Chere. Alright, let's go." The two crossed the vacant corridor, careful to move swiftly on their toes. "Stay here," he spoke while slipping something beneath a door in close proximity.

"What are we doin?" Rogue asked, submissively allowing the Cajun to take her by the arm.

"_We _are doing nothing," he looked into her eyes, "_you_, are staying here and keeping a watch." He picked at the lock with an awkward looking tool, slowly pressing it open when he's successfully disengaged it. The Southerner hunched down, listening, hearing only her heart beating against her chest.

Gambit was back quicker than she'd expected, beckoning her to follow him into the blackness of the room. "Are you ready?" he queried, eyes twinkling seductively.

"As ready as Ah'll ever be," she nodded.

"Good," he led her along a wall, remaining low to the ground. The only illumination in the room spilled in randomly from blinds across the way. "Take this," he said quietly, wrapping a rope around her wrist. "I want you t' follow it. Y' got to climb up this vent."

"What about you?" The goth whispered anxiously.

"I'm going a different way, just to make sure there aren't any more cameras. Move silently, and wait at the end of the line for me. Okay?" He smiled softly, "It'll be alright ma Cherie." He sensed her apprehension.

"Ah know," she snapped gently, irritation lacing her words. She watched him slip away again into the shadows – returning her gaze to the darkness before her. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought, putting her arms out to feel around as she walked. It was frightening to wander in the mysterious blackness – eerie silence shrouded her. A wall was unexpectedly in front of her, recognized by her wandering hand. She tugged at the rope lightly, feeling it tense upward.

Before she knew it, she was heaving herself up and into the hole in the wall that Remy had set up for her. It was then she realized how people could feel claustrophobic. The tiny square tunnel sent shivers down her spine – she shook thoughts of it shrinking on top of her – from her brain. The Southerner's heart paced quicker.

"Rogue," she heard a whisper and nearly jumped at it.

"Gambit," she sneered quietly, "you scared me."

He ignored her words, "I'm down here." She peeked through the slits in the floor of the vent. "I want you to follow it to the end, and open the door on the other side." She nodded.

Doing as she was instructed, Rogue worked her way to the end of the channel. She found herself in front of another opening; the thief had cleverly removed the vent's cover and placed it elsewhere. The X-woman peered down into the empty room. She hopped down. _Uh oh,_ she thought,_ there are two doors._ Anxiety coursed through her again. She closed her eyes, mapping out the passageway she'd just crawled. _This one?_ She bit her lip, looking to one of the doors.

Unlocking it, the goth held her breath – it wasn't too often she was so relieved to see Remy LeBeau.

"Perfect," he smiled, beckoning her into the room with him calmly.

"I almost picked the wrong one," she admitted, half smiling.

"I meant you," he winked. He couldn't see her emerald eyes roll in disapproval.

The two X-men made their way to another corridor; Gambit checked both ways. She held her breath as she trailed the trained pickpocket, wondering if he could hear her heart pounding. He couldn't; the Cajun was too busy examining their surroundings for cameras and any possible sensors. Guards were simple to hear. They are so accustomed to a boring night that they rarely attempt at making quiet rounds. This was a general rule, he found.

"How long have you done this?" Running a hand along the wall, the boy made a 'heh' noise, substituting a small laugh.

He replied nonchalantly, "My whole life I guess." Pausing, Remy sat back - motioning a halt. After a moment, he smiled back at her, "my father, Jean-Luc taught me the basics, but most of this comes from practice and experience." She wondered suddenly what kind of father would show their child such things.

"Your _daddy_?" She repeated; he sensed her disgust.

"He wasn't my real dad," the Cajun whispered as they pressed onward, "I tried to pick-pocket him when I was just a boy, and he caught me." She could see the faint glow of his demon eyes, "he adopted me, raised me… took me in."

"You were an orphan?" Rogue's voice was quiet – surprised.

The look he gave affirmed her inquisition, "_Am_," he corrected, "Jean-Luc isn't much of a daddy. He just took me in for his own personal gain. I'm on my own now, Chere."

Guilt racked the Southerner for a moment, having made the ignorant assumption that Gambit had a normal life. She wasn't entirely certain why she had made such a supposition – but she did.

"You have the X-men," she said softly.

He stopped, looking back to her, "I don't _need_ anybody, Rogue." The professional thief signaled for her to look across the hallway, "Let's get a move on."

* * *

MEANWHILE BACK AT THE INSTITUTE

* * *

"Remy?" DeScaduw poked her head into the kitchen, her voice hopeful. She had been searching for the missing Cajun for the past forty-five minutes. _Where could he be,_ she chewed her lip in thought. She hadn't spoken with him since the night by the pool, and was beginning to worry he was avoiding her.

"Dallas," Kitty Pryde rounded the corner getting a glimpse of the shadow manipulator, "have you like, seen Rogue?"

The new recruit shook her head, "not since earlier. Have you seen Gambit?"

"No."

_This is odd_, Dallas felt her gut twist – suspicion cultivating within her.

"Do you want to go out to see a movie with us?" Shadowcat smiled. "I wanted to ask Rogue to come too, but I can't find her anywhere!"

"Sorry Kitty," the older girl sighed, "I have to do a lot of laundry tonight." A lie.

"Oh," the valley girl nodded, "well, if you like, change your mind – feel free to join!" She ambled out the kitchen door, humming to herself as she made her way down the corridor.

Dallas plopped down on a nearby stool, heaving a frustrated sigh as she cupped her cheeks in aggravation. How was she supposed to smooth things over with Gambit if he wasn't around? She trailed her fingers across the surface of the counter, making circles. _Rogue and Gambit are missing… which is an unusual combination._ The girl had only been there for about a week or two, but still frequently saw the Cajun charmer wandering the halls. If he left, often his motorcycle was missing too – and it was still in the west wing garage – she had checked.

Her violet eyes got a sudden glimpse of a bag tossed carelessly atop the counter. The Dutch girl sat up straight – looking as though she'd just found a load of money. Her eyebrow slowly arched; a grin spreading wide across her face. _Isn't that Rogue's?_ She thought, remembering her encounter with the Southerner prior that day.

She slipped of the stool slickly, gliding silently to the knapsack. _Come on,_ her brain teased,_ you have to look. You have to find out what that little gothic brat is up to._ She licked her lips, pondering, suddenly feeling nervous.

"No," she breathed aloud to herself, "I don't _have_ to do anything. I'll find them on my own." Dallas turned away from the book, in-stride to the exit. The unexpected tap of a finger on her shoulder sent her whirling around hastily. The girl grabbed her chest, feeling reprieve from the scare when she realized it was only her shadow. "I said no," she grumbled, crossing her arms. The dark figure thrust the notebook into her chest – forcing her to embrace it. DeSchaduw closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose. "Fine," she choked in irritation, "If you _insist._"

She opened the faux "math" notebook eagerly; pages moving swiftly and smoothly between her fingers. The more she read – the faster her heart fluttered. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks… Rogue knew she was involved in the murder, and she was up to something. The new recruit grit her teeth, violently slapping the memory journal closed.

It was suddenly sailing through the air – meeting cruelly with a nearby wall. Her shadow delicately picked it up, sauntering to the bag on the counter, and placing it back inside. _I should've known something like this would happen when they told me she drew in my life-force. Life force doesn't just mean energy Dallas,_ she pulled wickedly at her black and violet hair. _I have to do something_, she felt panicked. _I can't let them send me back there…_

"Dallas," Jean Grey had walked in, sensing the other woman's distress, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," DeSchaduw lied with a smile. Jean nodded, retrieving a glass from a nearby cabinet. When the X-woman turned to leave, she noticed Dallas again; the brunette stood outwardly calm, but with eyes glistening amid tears. The Dutch girl's silhouette on the other hand, appeared to be throwing something close to a shadow-puppet temper tantrum behind her. Wordlessly, a concerned Jean Grey exited the kitchen.

* * *

BACK TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

* * *

"What's the problem," the Southerner snapped; Gambit had been fumbling with a locked passageway gate.

"It's stuck," he grunted, giving it a tug, "be patient Rogue—"

"Move, swamp-rat," she tugged him back by the tail of his trench coat, sitting on her butt. Her feet crunched to her belly before she gave a mighty kick – sending the door reeling off the hinges. The thief winced at the noise, but couldn't help the smirk that overcame him. "We're running out of time," she hissed, stepping into the foyer of the fifth floor.

Gambit patted down his coat, a cloud of dust filling the air momentarily. "Which way?" he queried.

The Southerner glanced to the left and then to the right, "this way."

The two found themselves before another door; their destination. "Cake," Remy LeBeau said smugly, retrieving his lock picks. Within seconds, the door was ajar – both X-men peering into the darkness.

"This is it," Rogue smiled, trailing the professional thief as he entered. "Does it matter which one?" her eyes skimmed the room; it was filled with countless computers.

"Let's hope their all networked to the same mainframe, eh?" Gambit glided over to the nearest one, cracking his knuckles – wriggling his fingers – and commencing the hack.

* * *

AGAIN, AT THE INSTITUTE

* * *

Strolling worriedly down the lower corridors of the x-mansion, Dallas approached the danger room. She was scheduled for a session, but had other plans. She couldn't seem to calm her nerves, and Logan was taking forever to end the first assembly of schooling that day. Anxiety suddenly overcame the Dutch girl, her fist making contact with a metal wall.

DeSchaduw jumped back, nursing her now swelling knuckles; just in time for the thick metal doors to open. A clutter of young students exited the room – some bruised, some laughing, some looking as though they were about to fall asleep on the spot.

"You alright darlin'?" Logan, who had been trailing the group, noticed Dallas kissing at her fist.

Heaving a well needed sigh; the Dutch girl looked to the instructor, "of course."

"Good," he eyed her curiously, "you're here twenty minutes early. Did you need me for something?"

She had been formulating a little scheme of her own now – it was simple: give everybody more than enough reason to doubt the Southerner's innocence. Bend the truth. Even if they didn't think she'd intentionally hurt somebody else – planting a seed of doubt would give her more credibility over the X-woman.

She was going to start with Rogue's father figure. How mad would he be – finding out that the goth blatantly lied to his face about the blood-stained gloves or knowing anything at all. She had been so insistent that she didn't need his help, that it had all been a 'misunderstanding'.

Baby steps – she would start with setting the foundation of suspicion. It was only right to assume that Rogue was with Remy, a trained thief, at the very place she'd mentioned earlier that morning; Thomas and Thomas Central Processing. How disconcerting would it be, to be caught in the middle of burglarizing Bayville's top computer tech organization?

"I just have to tell you," she made her best worried expression, "I think Rogue is about to get herself in some serious trouble. I overheard her talking on the phone about needing to get rid of some evidence…"

* * *

AGAIN, WITH OUR LOVABLE THIEVES

* * *

"What did y' stumble on Cherie," Remy breathed in disbelief. "This company isn't doing background checks on its employees – it's selling detailed profiles of mutants!"

Rogue and Gambit gawked at the computer screen stunned. Neither had anticipated such a mind-blowing discovery. "We have to expose them," Rogue whispered, putting a gloved hand to her mouth. Names in glowing green text flooded the monitor – scroll after scroll after scroll.

"There has t' be thousands of people on here," the Cajun shook his head; he narrowed his eyes looking for anyone familiar.

"Are _we_ on there?" She queried.

Gambit click clacked away at the keyboard, a sudden photo of a young girl with white streaks enveloping her face, coming up. "You are," he sat back, running a hand through his hair.

"This, this, this," she stammered, "is unbelievable." Her eyes skimmed the detailed portfolio of her life. There were sections for medical history, occupancy records, and known associates – just the tip of the iceberg.

"I'm on here too," Gambit grumbled, "no pictures though." He examined his profile, chuckling, "Well, dey ain't too up to date – says here I'm still a member of the Thieves' Guild in New Orleans, Louisiana."

"Pull up DeSchaduw," Rogue ordered promptly.

The charmer did as he was instructed. The duo inspected the research silently, minutes passing them by.

"My my my," Remy arched a brow, "Well now, ain't this a surprise…"

"Ah need these," Rogue motioned to the information files. "Can you save them onto this for me?" She handed him a small disc drive. "It should fit, I borrowed it from Hank."

"Aren't you just the little crook these days," Gambit teased.

"Just do it swamp-rat."

"As you wish," he smirked, "it's going to take a few minutes."

Those minutes felt like an eternity.

The Southerner took the disc drive delicately from Gambit's gloved hand, slipping it into a secured pocket. "Okay," she began, "Ah think we should probably see what is in Mr. Thomas' office. Maybe it can help us to fi—"

"Shh!" Remy's hand flew up, hushing her. "Listen," his voice was nearly too quiet to be heard.

She held her breath, recognizing the faint sound of feet scrapping the floor.

* * *

**A/N: Hey all! Thank you for keeping up with the fic. Please drop me some reviews; criticisms help me to improve my writing and better direct my writing. Thank you to everybody who has added me or my story to their updates and/or favorites! **

**Review Responses:**

**Wolf Skater – as long as it's Remy/Rogue, it's always okay – hahaha :) thanks for the review!**


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